DC Book 3: Seeing Double
by aubreysmom
Summary: coauth by RRP and aubreysmom. An erratic twin, a new case, and a frightening revelation. How will our lovely couple handle their latest trial? This series follows a statement made in the episode The Fugitive that Myles has brothers.
1. Mirror Image

Seeing Double By RRP and aubreysmom 

**Disclaimer: ** The characters in this story, with the exceptions of the bad guys, Sam Leland and Elizabeth Dillingham, are the property of Pebblehut FBEye, Inc and Paxson Entertainment. Elizabeth Dillingham is the creation of aubreysmom, and the rest are RRP's.

**Author's Note:** I need to reiterate something, so folks don't get confused. This series was started long before "The Kiss" and the information we got on Myles' sister and parents. This universe is based on a comment from "The Fugitive," a first-season episode, where we learn that Myles has brothers (a little tidbit someone in the continuity department must have forgotten, since there was no mention of them in "The Kiss."). So the deviation gets a bit wider as we go on – call this an "ideal universe."

-!-

-!-

**Chapter 1: Mirror Image**

Tara Williams liked arriving at the office early, despite the fact that she hated dragging herself out of bed at the crack of dawn. There was a certain peace in the solitude before the Bullpen became busy, starting off the day by leaning over her keyboard and listening to the drip-drop of the coffee maker.

With those savored moments to strive for, very rarely was she _not_ the first person to arrive. When she wasn't the first in the room, it was usually due to outside circumstances, or urgent case matter that compelled someone to rush to their desk as the sun rose. It was like farm work, with a pencil cup instead of a milk can, she decided, after encountering the "Scare from Fellow Early Agent" phenomenon for the third or fourth time.

So she was rather surprised, when she entered the office at 7 a.m., to find Myles spinning in his desk chair. Her surprise only multiplied when the chair whirled to face her, and he waved and grinned before the rapidly turning chair moved him in the opposite direction again.

"Myles?" There was a world of doubt and suspicion in Tara's tone. She had the sinking feeling that she was dreaming, and that she really had forgotten to set her alarm clock as she had gone to bed thinking. That person in the chair, though he looked exactly like the Myles she knew, couldn't _possibly_ be Myles Leland III, could he? Not in the baggy designer jeans, or the band T-shirt that read "Dashboard Confessional" (complete with autographs, apparently) and the skateboard shoes. Most definitely, not with the bleached hair that was a tad longer than she remembered. She racked her brain, trying to come up with an undercover case that would account for what she was seeing.

"Almost! But not quite!" was the cheerful response from the still-whirling person in the desk chair. The chair slowed, his eyes gave her a once-over, and there was a drawn-out and amazed, "Woah..." from the Myles lookalike. He leaned back and sank to a nearly horizontal position.

"Sam!" A voice behind Tara roared, causing her to jump and nearly drop her things. The man in the chair flew out of it and bounded across the room.

"Myles!" He replied happily. "Dude, it's been forever!"

Tara slowly turned, almost afraid of what she would see, and found herself looking at two mirror images. The one in the classy punk-rock wear, from the chair, was hugging an identical copy of himself— except the copy was wearing much more Myles-oriented clothing – a suit and coordinating tie. The one that was most Myles-like didn't look all that receptive or thrilled, and wasn't returning the hug. He peeled the first copy away from him, and held him at arm's length.

"How did you get up here?" The Myles wearing a suit asked.

"Well, I...I um...I told them I was you and had left my badge in my desk?" The other one answered with a sheepish look.

"So I heard downstairs just now, after going through ten minutes of proving I'm really me."

Tara shook her head, trying to clear it and figure out what was going on.

Myles-with-the-suit turned to her and sighed. "Tara, this is my twin brother, Sam...Sam, this is Tara Williams..."

"Howdy." The punk rocker extended a hand, and grinned at her again. "Sam Leland."

"Uh...hi..." Tara was still trying to find a foothold, and get her train of thought back on track. Having two different copies of Myles in the same room made it increasingly hard to do so.

"Sorry about that, Tara." The Myles-that-seemed-to-really-_be_-Myles grabbed Sam by the arm, "It won't happen again, will it?" He demanded through clenched teeth.

"I dunno. It might. Depends." Sam shot back, wincing at the pressure on his arm; there was a pause, and then he broke the hold and slammed a fist into Myles' chest. "Point for me."

Myles sucked in a breath and glared at Sam. "So," he ground out, trying to at least sound civil. "What brings you here? How long are you staying?"

Sam leaned against a nearby desk, and looked up at the ceiling. "I come with the wind. Which happened to die about the same time I arrived, so I dunno how long I'll be around. Couple days, maybe a couple of weeks."

Myles looked alarmed at this news, and quickly asked the next crucial question. "Where are you staying?"

"Your place. Duh." Sam rolled his eyes. "Where else?"

"I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming. Someone pinch me and wake me up." Tara squeezed her eyes shut and mumbled under her breath. There was a sharp prick on her arm, and she pulled away from it with an injured, "Ow!" as her eyes snapped open.

"Nope. You're not dreaming." Sam told her, quite earnestly.

This time, Myles rolled his eyes and growled, "Sam, leave her alone."

"Well, she asked!" Sam retorted indignantly.

"Oh my word. I'm dreaming. There can't _possibly_ be two of you." Another voice entered the scene, and all three heads turned to see Lucy standing in the doorway with a shocked expression on her face.

"Well, there ain't two of _him_, but there are two of us," was Sam's ready answer. "And that's not nearly as bad."

Myles hit him in the arm, and Sam slapped his brother upside the head in retribution.

Lucy moved into the office, and walked over to Tara to whisper, "Am I asleep?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Look, can I get a house key and just be gone? I'll explain more later, but it's been a while since we've stopped and I don't want Glorfindel to pee on my car seats." Sam held out a hand to Myles for a key, and gave his brother his best innocent, puppy-dog eyes.

At the name, Tara perked up. "Glorfindel the Elf?" she asked in confusion.

"Nope, my cat." Sam clarified. "If I had an elf, I wouldn't be worried about him peeing on the car seats."

Tara stifled a laugh, and Lucy raised an eyebrow in amusement. Myles, however, simply glared at Sam and didn't relinquish the house keys.

Sam dropped the hand he had been holding out, and shoved it into his pocket. "Okay, then. I'll pick the lock."

There was an awkward pause in the room; then it was interrupted by a cheerful voice. "Good morni–" Bobby Manning stopped short, looking at Myles and then Sam, his eyes slowly moving back and forth.

"Hey, you're kinda cute..." Sam announced curiously. "Wanna go out?"

If seeing two copies of Myles in the same room didn't shake the Aussie, being asked out by one of them blew him away. His jaw dropped, and he tried to think of something to say. "Uh..._Myles_? Um..."

"Shut _up_, Sam. He's kidding, Bobby." Myles replied promptly, hitting Sam in the arm. "This is my twin brother, Sam."

Bobby moved warily around them and headed for his desk, shaking his head to clear it. Lucy and Tara exchanged mirthful looks, and both went for their own morning work when it was clear that nothing more was going to come of the matter at the moment.

"Why are you really here, Sam?" Myles questioned coldly, when the others were out of earshot.

"I heard you were sick." Sam mumbled, his shoulders slumping. "Mom called and said something about it. I thought I'd drop by and see if you were okay. I didn't think you'd be so mad about it."

"When did Mom call you?" There was a glimmer of sudden compassion in Myles eyes, and his voice lost its icy tone.

"Almost two weeks ago."

It wasn't difficult for Myles to regain his previous demeanor. "And you didn't start driving until just _yesterday_? I was in the hospital, Sam – with Ebola. I almost _died_."

"Well, she just said you were sick. I thought it was the flu or something." Sam said defensively.

"Maybe, if you had shown up, you would have known differently."

Sam eyed him, frustrated. "Maybe, if you bothered to _call_ me once in a while, I would know when something was up."

"I didn't _used_ to have to…" Myles stopped short, an ancient pain crossing his face. Then it was gone, replaced by a stoically mumbled, "Sorry."

His twin's eyes blazed momentarily, but, like Myles, it vanished a second later. The two of them stood there in a face-off for a long minute; it was Sam who finally backed down.

"Okay, so I haven't been the best brother. But at least I'm here now, right?" He flashed a grin. "I'll stick around for a while to make up for it."

"Don't bother." Myles' eyes lit up in alarm.

Sam missed the look, and assured him, "Oh, it isn't a bother. No problem. I don't mind at all."

"That makes one of us."

"Can I have the keys now? I really don't want Glorfindel to leak all over my car."

With a defeated sigh, Myles tossed Sam a house key, and warned him not to lose it. Sam promised, and disappeared out the door with a final wave. Myles watched his brother's retreating figure, and staggered over to his desk to collapse in his chair. "This is the last thing I need right now," he muttered. "Superman Sam and his Elven cat, back to plague the somewhat normal lives of the people around him. Just _great_."

Bobby was still trying to shake off his shock, but he managed a grin. "I thought twins were supposed to be pretty close, mate. You and Sam seem more like oil and water. Or gasoline and matches."

For a moment, the Aussie saw a flash of what he could only call anguish cross his friend's face. Then it was gone, and Myles grabbed a file to work on, his demeanor all business.

"Old news, and not particularly interesting. Do we have something constructive to do today?"

-!-

-!-

That afternoon, Dimitrius walked into the Bullpen with Sue and Levi, talking animatedly about something related to a minor case they were finishing up. Sue stopped short as she saw Myles at his desk, and Myles at hers. Her eyes panned back and forth between the two for a long minute.

"Myles!" One of them sat straight up, looking dead-on at Levi. "How come they wouldn't let me bring Glorfindel up here, but she can bring her stupid dog?"

The other Myles, the one at his own desk, looked up. "Because, Sam, Levi is a service dog. He helps her because she's deaf." He rose and came over to where Sue was still trying to process her double vision. "Sue, this is my brother, Sam." He actually tried to fingerspell his twin's name, and did fairly well.

"Oh, hey, D-man..." The twin looked over at the black agent, who nodded back in silent acknowledgement, a smile parting his lips.

"Wait a minute..." Lucy interrupted, walking up to them. "You _knew_ about him, D?"

Dimitrius nodded, the smile broadening. "Yeah. He blew into the Hartford office once while I was up there on a temp assignment. I don't think the place was ever the same." He gave Sam a high-five as he headed for his desk.

Sue still looked a little confused, but she managed a smile as well. "Nice to meet you, Sam. And actually, Levi's pretty smart."

"You read my lips!" Sam exclaimed excitedly, moving closer to her and patting Levi on the head. "I saw that on...uh...hmm...was it? No...Sesame Street! That's it! I saw it on Sesame Street once."

"That's right," Sue replied. "As long as I can see your lips, I can tell most of what you're saying, even across the room." A twinkle lit her brown eyes. "So you have to be careful what you say around me."

"Oooh." Sam grinned. "So you're F.B.Eye?" He pointed to his eye to indicate which manner of the word he was using, said blue-grey eyes dancing playfully and occasionally sneaking a glance at Myles to judge his brother's reactions.

"Righto," Bobby interjected with a brotherly grin. "Our very own secret weapon. Bad guys, beware."

"She reads lips," Sam said in a reasoning tone. "Besides, you would be enough to lure the bad guys in, I think. One look at you, and they'd all swoon!" Sam waved a hand in the air melodramatically, the grin still plastered on his face.

"Excuse me..." Sue tapped Sam on the arm, and he turned back to her. "But did you just say 'spoon' or am I reading you wrong?"

"Swoon." He repeated carefully. "It's what you see people do when he walks down the street. Especially high-end. Brokers are such saps for Aussie dudes."

Sue looked over at Bobby in confusion, noting that the Aussie's grin had vanished completely, and the blue eyes were murderous. She then looked at Myles for some sort of explanation, and he wearily shook his head, and struggled for a moment to remember the fingerspelling. _Bad joke. _He then waved a hand for_ never mind_.

She glanced back at Bobby, then decided it was worth the risk. "Yeah, I can see what you mean."

The Aussie started to retort, and she flashed her brightest smile at him. He _hmphed _and turned back to his paperwork.

Sue looked to Sam, only to find that he was no longer there. He had abandoned her for D's desk, and was leaning over it, talking to the agent. She leaned back to see what he was saying, and caught a conversation in which D was apparently trying to humor him.

After about five minutes, during which D shot several glances in his direction, Myles decided it was time to limit everyone's "Sam exposure" for one day. He got up and walked over to his twin. "Hey, Sam?"

"Howdy, Random Identical Pedestrian. What can I do for ya?" Sam turned around to face Myles.

The agent ignored the quip. "I just thought of something. Glorfindel's in an unfamiliar place. I'd really hate for him to get himself in trouble while he's exploring, and not have you there to get him out of it."

"You don't think he'll get hurt, do you?" Sam's eyes widened, and for a split second he was completely and utterly serious.

Myles' eyes were just as grave. "Well, I don't know, but maybe you should go check on him, and keep him company until he has a chance to adjust. I shouldn't be late tonight. Today's just paperwork. I'll call you if something comes up."

"Good idea." Sam nodded rapidly, grabbing his car keys off Myles' desk. "I just don't want him to, like, fall in the blender or anything...promise to call?"

His twin raised a hand. "I promise. And, as far as the blender goes...just keep the lid on it, and he can't get into it. Okay?"

"Okay. I hope he's okay..." There was a pause, and Sam gasped. "I forgot to leave the peanut butter out! He'll be starving!" And with that, he flew out of the room.

Myles remained where he was until he was sure Sam was out of earshot. Then he turned full circle, raking the room with his eyes, stopping where he was sure Sue could read his lips. "I expect to be exempt from coffee and doughnut runs for the next month."

A chorus of approval was the unanimous response.

-!-

-!-

Myles could hear the stereo clearly as he got out of his car at 5:30 that evening. Mrs. Patten, his next-door neighbor, walked over to him before he got to the front door.

"That's been going on all afternoon," the old lady said, her face indicating that punk rock wasn't her preferred genre. "You adopt a bunch of kids or something?"

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Patten," he replied quickly. "I'll take care of it…immediately." He opened the door as she stalked back to her house, and was assailed by several hundred decibels of electric guitar.

The kitchen was a disaster. Every cupboard was open, assorted items were strewn across the counter, and it appeared that a shaken bottle of root beer had exploded onto the ceiling and the cherry cabinetry. Myles gritted his teeth, unearthed the remote for the stereo, and switched the power off.

If he'd expected silence at that point, he was mistaken. Almost as loud as the stereo had been, a series of beeps, buzzes and other indistinguishable sounds were emanating from the TV. He walked into the living room.

Sam was sprawled on the sofa, a loudly-mewing Glorfindel perched on his shoulder, a game controller in his hands and his eyes glued to a screenful of cartoon characters in go-carts. Around him was scattered a large assortment of chips, popcorn, candy wrappers and soda cans.

Myles was going through his fifth round of slowly counting to ten when Sam finally looked up. "Dude, you're home!"

Taking a final breath, Myles risked speaking. "Yes, I'm home. Mind telling me when the tornado hit?"

"Tornado?" Sam paused the game, and looked around the room, blinking at the mess. Glorfindel meowed pitifully, and jumped off of his perch to scratch at an empty chip-bag. "Oh, _this_. 'Fin and I just had dinner."

"_Dinner_?" Myles' voice went up an octave. "The place looks like Glorfindel was running laps through the kitchen cupboards!"

Sam looked suddenly suspicious. "Do you have cameras in this place? How did you know that?"

Myles gritted his teeth. "I don't suppose your cat is as talented at cleaning it up?"

"Well, no. But we're working on that. He already knows how to use a spoon. Pretty cool, huh?" Sam grabbed Glorfindel by the tail, pulled the kitten towards him, and swung it back up onto his shoulder. "Huh, 'Fin? Wanna show Uncle Myles how you can eat cereal?"

"You're changing the subject!" Myles snapped, waving his hand around to display the mess.

"Woah, bro. You asked 'bout the cat. I'm just answering the questions. Chill." Sam raised an eyebrow, shook his head and clucked to Glorfindel. "Bro's a bit tight, don'tcha think? Bipolar, maybe." In a swift motion, he had the controller in his hands again, and was concentrating on the TV screen intently.

Myles took a very deep breath, trying to keep from wrapping his hands around Sam's throat. It took about two seconds to realize he was losing the battle. _Time to leave before I end up having to arrest myself for murder_, he thought.

"Excuse me for just a second," he said, attempting to sound civil. "I just remembered a phone call I have to make."

"Eh, no prob. Can I use the phone when you're done? I have to call Gregory- I forgot." Sam called after him without pulling his eyes from the game. "And can you get Glorfindel a bowl of root beer?"

Myles left the room before more than root beer hit the ceiling. He spent the rest of the evening, after cleaning the kitchen, pounding the living daylights out of a full-length punching bag in his small gym area.

-!-

-!-


	2. The Erratic

**Chapter 2: The Erratic**

Amidst the rapid talking, Jack Hudson came to a final and decided conclusion: He would never, _ever_ take another day off again. Every time he left for more than twenty hours, he missed something, something important. It was inevitable.

Right now, he tried to filter the varied speech coming from Lucy, Bobby, and Tara, Sue's furiously-paced signing, and Levi's barking in all the excitement. He couldn't keep up with Sue, and the white noise from the other three, with Levi adding to the symphony, was simply noise.

So far, he had caught "Myles", and "no idea", among various snippets of uselessness. He had determined that it had something to do with the tall, blond agent, but also knew that if it was something serious or life-threatening (haunting thoughts of an Ebola relapse had sprung to mind), they wouldn't be quite this worked up.

Jack was about to tell them all to be quiet and calmly explain what was going on, when Myles walked in – dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. His hair seemed a bit longer and lighter than Jack remembered, but Jack brushed that small detail aside as just not paying attention in the past.

"Hi, people I don't know that well." Myles spoke to the room at large, grinning widely and waving. He paused on the way to his desk to wink at Bobby, throwing in, "Hey, hot stuff. What's up?"

_That_, however, Jack could not ignore.

"See? I _told_ you!" Bobby's voice raised, and he waved an accusing hand in Myles' direction.

"He just had to see it to believe it." Lucy confirmed with a nod.

Jack was lost. See _what_? That Myles...was...uh...

"Sam! I told you to wait for me!" Myles stormed into the Bullpen, looking rather angry.

Jack had to double take. Myles, in punk wear...at his desk. Myles...in normal clothes...at the door. Myles-in-normal-clothes came over to Jack, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Jack, I'd like you to meet my brother, Sam. Sam, this is Jack Hudson. Anything he might have said concerning Bobby is purely in poor jest, and _not_ to be taken seriously." Myles raised an eyebrow in the direction of the punk rocker, and the newcomer shrugged.

"I think he likes it, Myles. Aww, look at him blushing..." Sam replied, cooing the last part in Bobby's general direction.

Myles looked over at Bobby to see him turning red indeed, and trembling – most likely suppressing the strong and overwhelming desire to throttle Sam.

"'Ello, Jackie, me boy," Sam saluted Jack, and spoke with an obviously false Irish accent. "Top o' the mornin' to ya." Then, suddenly, as if a thought struck him, he sat up and motioned to his Visitor's ID pass. "Myles, how come they couldn't just use one of your old pictures instead of taking this new one of me?"

"Because I'm _not_ you and it's against policy," Myles replied evenly, trying very hard to keep his cool.

"Well, gee. I don't want to insult _Them_." Sam pretended to act horrified, and sat back in Myles' desk chair with an expression of mock-terror.

"I obviously missed something rather big..." Jack mumbled to himself.

Sam caught it, and his eyes widened dramatically. "Just look for the paw print, Steve!"

Dimitrius was just walking into the room, and thus lost his mouthful of coffee.

Lucy raised an eyebrow at the usually quiet agent, but he was laughing too hard to reply; he waved her off, set his cup down on the coffee-counter, and grabbed some paper towels to wipe up the coffee on the floor.

Out of nowhere, a tiny voice started singing "Doom doom da doom doom da doom doom dooom!" Everyone except Sue started looking for the source of the noise, and even Levi looked slightly puzzled. After a brief second in which the strange song continued, Sam jumped and exclaimed, "Oh! My phone!"

He pulled a modern-looking little silver device out of his pocket, and snapped it open, holding it up to his ear. "Oh, howdy, Gregory. S'up, butler-boy? What? No...why? Oh, go ahead. I don't care. Mhmm. Oh, guess what? I beat SuperMario64 the other day. Yeah. 116 stars! Isn't that awesome? I'll save it, so you can see. I dunno...maybe a couple of weeks. Yup. Wanna talk to him? Alright. I'll tell him. G'bye, Gregory."

Sam tossed the phone onto Myles' desk, and then started playing with one of Myles' pencils. "Gregory says hi," he reported distractedly.

"Who's Gregory?" Tara asked curiously, looking to Myles for a possible answer.

"My butler," Sam answered, twirling the pencil between his fingers, eyes locked on it as if it was the greatest source of amusement in the known world.

"Butler?" At least three voices asked, as eyebrows shot up all over the room.

"Excuse me, but I thought you said 'butler'..." Sue questioned doubtfully.

"Yeah, my butler..." Sam didn't seem to be phased by the sudden attention, rather, he flipped the pencil up in the air and caught it with two fingers, then repeated the motion before giving more information. "I'm a mill-yun-air. Just ask Myles." Sam drew out the syllables in the dead-weight word, and all eyes in the room turned to Myles for verification.

"Unfortunately," Myles sighed, nodding. "It's true." He walked over to his desk, dropped some papers on it, and took the pencil from Sam.

"Hey! I was playing with that!"

"I need it."

"You have more!" Sam grabbed for the pencil, but Myles held it out of reach. Sam slumped back into the chair, and crossed his arms over his chest, pouting. Then his eyes lit up with mischief, and he smiled sweetly at Myles. "Oh, by the way...did you get my birthday present?"

"The musical birthday card? Yes." The entire roomful of people watched intently as the twins interacted. Myles was doing his best to calmly ignore Sam. He started writing things on reports, jotting in notes, standing up to save himself the trouble of evicting the current occupant of his chair.

"Didja like it? I almost imported an Aston Martin for you, but then I decided you probably wouldn't like it that much— so I called and canceled the order. The card was a lot cooler anyway, wasn't it? Well, then I found that Lotus Elise, but you never drive that kind of car anyway– you seem to like those old Lincoln and Fords..." Sam rambled on, now toying with the Post-Its, but Myles had stopped moving. The pencil was stopped mid-word.

Jack nudged Bobby, and leaned over to whisper, "Is he still breathing?"

"I doubt it." The answer came from Dimitrius, who shrugged, chuckling at Myles' frozen form.

"So, anyway..." Sam was continuing with his spoken train of thought when Myles finally managed to shake himself out of the shock.

"You almost got me an Aston Martin!"

"Yeah, well, gee...you don't have to be so mad about it." Sam said defensively, pulling his head back to look up at his brother. "I said I canceled the order. No worries."

"An Aston Martin..."

"Breathe, Myles." Tara reminded him from the other side of the room.

"So...what are we doing today? Can I play with your gun?" Sam reached for Myles' holster, and Myles jumped back, putting a protective hand on the firearm.

"No! You may not 'play' with my gun."

"Someone needs to go back to kindergarten and learn how to share." Sam said in an overly patronizing and childlike way.

"If either of us belongs in kindergarten still, it's you," Myles retorted, grabbing Sam by the arm. "Out of my chair. Now."

Sam came up, bounced around the other side of the chair as Myles sat down, and leaned over the top. "Do you guys have food? Coffee? Soda? What do you do, anyway? Can I have that pencil back? You aren't using it now. Are you sure you don't have food? Did you remember to tell Glorfindel goodbye? I did. He gets upset if you don't. And then he meows the whole time you're gone and–"

It was too much for Myles. "Would you _shut up_? And how do you know he meows when you're gone if you aren't there?" He realized too late that he'd just negated the previous request.

Sam looked shocked, as if the logic behind the answer was simple enough for anyone to grasp. "Well, duh." He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He told me. We communicate very well. Sometimes, bro, I worry about you..."

Myles dropped his head into his hands. By now, most of the room had returned to their original tasks. Bobby sat down at his desk across from Myles, and began to work on some reports. There was silence for a minute; Myles decided that Sam had listened for once, and was just being quiet as asked.

Then he heard an amused whisper. "You have nice hair, ya know."

Myles looked up to see Bobby's blue eyes staring at him, a death grip on his pen and his jaw set, and Sam standing behind him, playing with the Aussie's hair.

"Must be the Australian surf. Do you surf? I can surf..."

"Myles..." Bobby's plea for help was someone between desperate, and infuriated.

"Sam! Leave Bobby alone!" Myles commanded harshly, and his twin looked up from his latest toy – Bobby's brown hair.

"But Myles...I'm bored." Sam protested, giving Bobby's hair a final tousle and walking away. "Hey, you..." Sam motioned to Sue, then picked up a paper clip and threw it so that it landed on the report she was working on. She looked up, surprised, and he pointed to Levi. "Can I play with your dog? Pleeeeease?" He put his hands together, and tried his best to look angelic. She laughed, and waved Levi towards him.

"Go play, Levi."

Levi bounded up and across the room to Sam. Sam dropped to the floor, sat Indian-style next to Myles' desk, and petted the honey-colored dog, talking animatedly about dogs in general, and Glorfindel the cautious kitten, with the energetic Retriever. The conversation tended to be one-sided, but it didn't seem to bother Sam in the least.

Nearly a half-hour passed in this manner, with relative quietness from Sam, and then Sue stood up and stretched. "I need some real coffee. Anyone else want anything?"

Various orders were called out, the giver of each making sure Sue knew they were talking before telling her what they wanted. She tapped the desk and called for Levi, who bounced up from his spot on the floor and dashed to her side. Sam wasn't far behind.

"Can I come?" he asked, eyes wide. "I can help carry stuff."

"I don't mind," Sue shook her head, and smiled at him.

"Myles! I'm going with Sue!" Sam called over his shoulder as he followed the blonde girl out of the room. Myles muttered a farewell– there was much more enthusiasm behind the idea thantheHarvard gradcared to admit.

Out in the hall, Sam trotted beside Sue towards the elevator. Once there, he stopped, and shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked longingly at the circular buttons on the wall.

"Can I push it? Myles always gets mad when I hit it really fast, so I thought I'd ask."

"Actually," Sue replied, looking down at Levi for a moment, "If you sign 'down' to Levi, he'll push it for you."

"Really?" Sam asked incredulously, his grin widening. "That's nifty! Glorfindel, that's my cat, can eat cereal with a spoon, but he can't reach elevator buttons. How do you sign 'down'? Just point, like this?"

Sue showed him the proper way to sign the word, and he did so in Levi's direction; the dog immediately jumped up and brushed a paw over the button, causing it to light up.

"Woah..."

-!-

-!-

They were waiting outside the coffee shop for the rather extensive order when a voice rang out.

"Sue!"

Levi jumped up, and Sue turned around to see David Palmer walking toward her with Nikita.

She smiled. "David! Hi!" She gave him a big hug. "Oh, David, this is—"

"Myles. I remember. Hello again." He reached out to shake hands.

Sam paused for just a moment, then smoothly returned the gesture, his voice holding something of his brother's intonation. "Of course. David. Yes." Another pause. "Sue's friend who…?"

"Yeah, I own a greenhouse."

The adult voice vanished into Sam's curious "Really? Mine's just white."

David looked at him strangely. "No, I...grow plants."

Sam smirked. "Flower Boy." He turned to Sue. "Why don't I give the dogs a run while we're waiting for the coffee?" At Sue's nod, he took off down across the small park area near the coffee shop. David unhooked Nikita's leash as well, and both dogs ran after him, barking and jumping.

David leaned over to Sue. "Has Myles been smoking something off a raid?"

Sue laughed, "That's not Myles."

"You're kidding me — a twin? Can't be — no way."

"Yeah...it's true."

"And this twin's name?" he prodded gently.

"Oh! Sam." She signed the name as she spoke, and looked over to where her coffee run tag-along was running through the park, laughing, as Levi and Nikita chased him and barked.

David grinned. "Ok - has _Sam _been smoking something off a raid? Because...they're like opposite ends of the _universe_."

"No..." Sue laughed. "He's just...nothing at all like Myles. You should have seen him in the office this morning."

"Do tell."

By the time she gave him a brief recap, David was laughing so hard he had to sit down on a nearby bench.

"Sue!" Sam waved both arms in the air to get her attention as he neared them, the panting dogs following a few feet behind him. "Is the coffee gonna be ready soon? The dogs are all worn out."

"It should be. And we need to get back to the office anyway." She turned to David and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll call you later tonight, ok?"

David held out a hand. "Nice meeting you, Sam. Thanks for giving Nikita a workout."

"Oh, no problem. It was fun..." Sam nodded, and shook the offered hand. He leaned over to Sue as David was walking away, and whispered loudly, his tone playful. "Is that your _boyfriend_? Does the team know you're dating a _flower guy_?"

Sue was about to answer, when David turned around. "Yeah," he said, walking backwards away from them, "and as long as I give 'em all a discount, they're totally cool with it." He waved and turned back around.

Sam looked at the smile on Sue's face and grinned. "You found a good one."

"I think so. Come on, the team will be in caffeine withdrawal by now."


	3. Mind Games

**Chapter 3: Mind Games**

"Sam, I'm trying to read." Myles looked over the edge of his worn copy of Goethe's _Faust_, and sent a silent prayer for silence heavenward. Even here in the library/office, he could hear the sound effects and music from the video game Sam was playing.

"Hold on...I'm saving up to buy a cow."

"_What_?" Myles set his book down on the nearby end table and strode into the living room.

"I'm saving up to buy a cow." Sam repeated, not taking his eyes off the screen. "You play this little dude and run a farm– plant stuff, and buy animals, and marry a village girl..."

"And you actually _play_ this?"

"Duh. It's only the best game besides MarioKart."

"Can you at least turn the volume down?" Myles pleaded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I like the music. Besides, if I turn it down, I won't know when the pigs are hungry."

"Then turn it off. Please, just give me half an hour, at least." Myles walked towards the TV, reaching for the power button, and Sam grabbed at him as he passed.

"Let me save! Let me save it first! Glorfindel, attack!" The cat did no such thing– the little kitten just sat and meowed in its strange, hesitant way at the two of them, then scampered under the couch.

Myles paused, while Sam furiously tapped buttons on the controller, and then sighed in relief. "There. Now you can turn it off."

"Thank you." Myles turned the TV off, and reveled in the ensuing silence. Behind him, Sam stood and stretched, and wandered off towards the kitchen.

"Don't wreck anything!" Myles warned him, returning to where he had left his book. Still smiling at his victory, he settled back in his chair and found the place where he'd left off. The words soon flowed into a vibrant and resounding symphony in his head, reminding him how much he truly loved older literature.

He was reaching a rather tense verse in the narrative when the floor shook beneath him. At the same time, a raging storm of sound hit. Myles dropped the book, threw his hands over his ears, and stumbled out of the room and down the hall.

The deafening noise was coming from the guest room; he threw open the door, and was met by even louder music. Sam was jumping up and down on the bed, eyes closed, playing air guitar, and Myles shouted at him.

The effort was in vain; Sam didn't even open his eyes, or look up. Hands still clutched tightly over his ears, Myles stumbled to the stereo, and hit the power button. The sound ceased, and Sam's head snapped up to see what had stopped his music.

Looking up, however, was a mistake. His feet left the bed at the same moment, and his head collided with the ceiling. There was a dull crack, and Sam fell, landing on the bed haphazardly, one foot hitting the alarm clock on the bedside table with a crunch.

Myles stood in the sudden silence, his ears still ringing, and looked at the suddenly motionless form of Sam on the bed.

"Sam?"

There was no response. He rushed to the bedside, and shook Sam by the shoulders. His twin moaned, and shifted on the bed. A split-second later, his eyes slid open, and he blinked up at Myles.

"What happened?"

"You hit your head on the ceiling." Myles replied with a forced patience, glancing up at the ugly dent on the brushed white ceiling. He would most certainly be mad later, he knew that; but for now, he was too relieved to yell.

"Ow...that hurt..." Sam sat up, rubbing the top of his head, and making pained faces. "You shouldn't have turned the music off without telling me."

"Without telling you? You couldn't hear me! I _tried_ to tell you!" Myles retorted, keeping a hand on Sam's shoulder, and studying Sam's eyes for signs of a concussion. "Don't get up. I'm going to get some ice."

Sam nodded, wincing at the same time, and dropped his head into his hands.

In the kitchen, Myles grabbed the phone, and dialed a number, cradling it between his ear and shoulder as he dropped pieces of ice into a plastic baggie.

"Hello?"

Myles almost kissed the phone receiver as he heard Elizabeth Dillingham's voice. "Tell me you're free tonight. Please!"

"Myles? Is that you?"

"Yes. Please, _please_ say you're free."

She laughed. "Not for the whole evening, but I can spare time for dinner. What's up?"

He breathed a deep sigh of relief. "I'll take dinner, and I'll explain when I see you, okay? You just saved my psychological well-being, for the moment at least. And possibly a life."

Elizabeth paused. "Oka-aay. Why don't I drive tonight? I'll pick you up in ten minutes."

"I love you forever!" He hung up, and tossed the phone onto the counter, heading for the guest room once again.

Myles found Sam in the same hunched-over position when he returned with the bag of ice and a towel to wrap around it. He put the makeshift ice pack on top of Sam's head, and instructed him to hold it there.

While Sam nursed his aching head, Myles studied the ceiling and the bedside table. The ceiling would definitely need professional work, and the table was fine. But the alarm clock was as good as gone— it sat in shambles. He carefully unplugged the device, and let it sit before trying to toss it in the trash.

"You're lucky that thing didn't shock you." He commented, squatting down next to the bed and checking Sam's eyes again. "I don't think you have a concussion, but you should probably take it easy for a while."

"Video games?" Sam asked hopefully, pulling the ice-pack off of his head, and tossing it behind him on the bed.

"Fine..." Myles sighed in exasperation as Sam cheered and rushed past him out the guest room door. The game music started up again, and Myles bit back a growl. He walked across the hall to his own room to change, pulling the door closed behind him.

Ten minutes later, he heard a car pull into the driveway. He headed for the door. "I'm going out."

Sam turned around from his game. "Can I come?"

"On a date."

There was a pause. "Can I come?"

"No!" The door slammed as he left. Sam looked shocked, and not a little hurt, for a minute. Then he smiled slyly, went to the window, and watched the car pull away before he headed for his own.

**-!-**

**-!-**

"So, want to tell me why you had to get out of the house _this_ time?" Elizabeth twirled her wineglass as she looked at him.

"I didn't _have_ to get out of the house," he defended amiably. "I wanted to see you. It's been a week. I missed you."

She gave him a gently reprimanding look, accompanied by a soft smile. "Love, you couldn't lie to me if your life depended on it. Let's have it."

Myles grimaced, and started rubbing his temples with his fingertips. "All right. You're going to find out soon enough anyway, but I suppose I should give you some fair warning. You see, my brother, Sam, is in town—"

"Myles! Myles! I DID it! I bought a cow and married a village girl!" Elizabeth did a classic double take as Sam bounded up to the table. He grinned broadly as he gave her a once-over with his eyes. "This your girlfriend?"

Myles sighed, his voice heavy with exasperation. "Yes."

The grin disappeared, and Sam looked utterly crestfallen. "But...what about me?"

The agent looked up. "What do you mean, what about you?"

"Traitor. I bet she already eats the grapes out of your fruit cups, too." He glowered at her.

Elizabeth had been quietly studying the new arrival, a smile playing across her lips. Now she raised a brow at Sam. "Well, he's offered, but I always felt there was a reason I should decline. Now I know why."

It was Myles who did a double take this time, and she glanced over at him, her green eyes twinkling. He blinked once, then sat back, amazed. _How does she _do_ this?_ But he knew the answer— Elizabeth jumped right into a scenario until she learned the rules, which probably was one thing that made her so good a psychologist.

_Time to sit back and watch the show_, he thought, suddenly more relaxed than he'd been in the past thirty-six hours. A grin was trying very hard not to work its way onto his face. _This should be fun._

Sam studied Elizabeth carefully for a moment, then pulled a chair over to the table for two and plunked down in it. "I suppose I could be willing to share him...but it's going to cost you."

She leaned forward on her elbows, her hands folded and her chin resting on them. Her expression was completely serious. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Sam looked around the restaurant, as if he feared that he would be overheard, then cast a glance at Myles before leaning forward and motioning for her to do the same. She complied, and he whispered, "Got any gum?"

Myles was watching her with a practiced nonchalance, but she could see the laughter in his eyes. Elizabeth winked at him, picked up her purse and opened it. "All I have is sugarless, I afraid."

Sam's face fell, and he looked thoughtful for a moment, before answering, "Okay, fine. But I'll need two sticks."

She considered that for a moment, leaning back in the chair now, her elbows now on the chair arms and her fingers steepled in front of her. "Tell you what. You give me two uninterrupted hours with your twin tonight, and you can have the whole pack." She waved it in the air.

Myles was almost shaking from trying to keep a straight face.

"Really?" Sam's familiar, foreign eyes lit up, and he snatched the pack of gum. "You totally rock, girlfriend of bro."

_Now_ she smiled at him. "Why thank you, Sam. I take that as a very high compliment. By the way, I'm Elizabeth."

"Lizzie. Got it." Sam nodded, and stood up, pocketing the gum.

She frowned slightly. "Hmm... Never got used to that one. How about Liz?"

Sam shrugged. "That works." He then turned to Myles and patted him fondly on the head, as if his brother were a puppy. "Behave yourself." With an admonishing look at Elizabeth, he added solemnly, "Two hours, Liz. No more or you'll owe me. And don't bring him back early expecting a refund."

"I wouldn't dream of it." As Sam walked off, whistling, Elizabeth turned to Myles, who was shaking his head at her and grinning. "What?"

"You do know he was completely in earnest, don't you?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Of course. I have a seminar early tomorrow morning, so that's about all the time I have tonight anyway. If I didn't, do you really think I would have given up my entire gum supply for just _two hours _with you?"

"I certainly hope not." Then his grin faded. "Well, since the something I was going to tell you about just sold me for a pack of sugarless... I suppose you'd like an explanation?"

She leaned forward again, her expression growing a little more serious – just a little. "He's your twin brother, and he drives you up the wall. That much I got. The rest...well, I could make a few assumptions, but I think you'd feel better if I let you explain."

Myles toyed with his cloth napkin, and then spoke. "Well, details aside, Sam and I...don't see each other much at all. He just shows up once in a while, and then disappears again. I was going to tell you earlier, but things kept happening, and I kept forgetting...I know it sounds awful, forgetting my own brother...but...Sam is, well...Sam...and..."

She reached over and took his hand. "I have siblings, too, Myles. And I don't always get along with them. I know you pretty well— and it's hard sometimes to relate to a sibling who's so different from you— even if he does look just like you." She smiled again. "Well, almost."

He chuckled, and flashed her a grin. "Usually the only way to tell that he _isn't_ me is the noise; we're a pretty close match when it comes to looks."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Dearest, rest assured that there's one person in your life who will _never_ mistake the two of you for each other." Her eyes twinkled at him again. "As for the noise - I think it's merely a different station."

"Hey!"

She laughed. "Now, we've only got an hour and forty-five minutes. Let's not waste them."

**-!-**

**-!-**

It was 10:15 when they walked up to the house. Sam was at the door, waiting. He looked at his watch pointedly; then sighed and shook his head. "Fifteen minutes late. Pay up."

"Already planned for it." She handed him a second pack, smiling. "Interest, for not keeping our deal, plus five minutes to say 'good night'?"

"Five minutes?" Sam looked unsure, and then nodded. "Fine." He leaned forward to take the gum, and whispered loudly in her ear, "You know, I'm getting the vague feeling you're dating the wrong brother."

Elizabeth didn't miss a beat. "Nope. Sorry. You were late. Your twin already swept me off my feet. You'll just have to keep looking."

Sam snapped his fingers, and gave his brother a light smack upside the head. "How come you have all the luck?"

For once, Myles was ready for him without really being annoyed. "Because _I_ look at something besides that Nintendo once in awhile. Now, shoo." He pushed Sam back through the front door, his tone mock-warning. "Five minutes. And don't spy on us." Sam frowned at him and pushed the door closed.

Elizabeth was laughing softly. "I'm impressed. You actually gave as good as you got, without killing him."

Myles rolled his eyes. "It was a lot easier to take when we were seventeen. Sometimes I think he's still back there."

"And sometimes it'll be easier on your nerves if you just go back with him." She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I have to go, love."

"Hey, what happened to five minutes?" He pushed his face into an exaggerated pout.

She laughed and gave him a _you've-got-to-be-joking_ look. 'Do you _really_ think he's going to last five minutes without coming back out here?"

He sighed. "Not really."

"I'm free tomorrow night. Why don't you find him a date, and we'll all go do something together. That way, he doesn't feel left out, and you won't be his only target."

Myles smiled and kissed her again. "I knew there was a reason I loved you. Good night."


	4. Endangered Species

**Chapter 4: Endangered Species**

Lucy Dotson entered the Bullpen to hear the faint sound of what seemed to be video game music; a quick look around confirmed that the music was coming from the plasma view screen on the wall, and was indeed a video game.

Sam Leland sat in Myles' desk chair, eyes fixed on the screen. Myles was nowhere in sight, and most of the agents seemed to be ignoring the noise. Only Bobby looked upset, and his expression was what Lucy could only describe as _please-kill-me-now_.

Lucy, still just through the door, whispered to Tara, "What's he doing?"

Tara's curls bounced as she looked up. "Sam? Just playing his Nintendo. He said something about Myles wanting to keep him out of trouble, when he showed up about an hour ago. Jack said it was fine, as long as we weren't using the screen – he's been as quiet as a mouse ever since."

"Where's Myles?"

"Called in this morning. Something about checking up on a couple of his snitches."

"Tara..." There was a low whisper from the other side of the room, and Bobby Manning shot the two girls his best begging look. "_Please_..."

"Bobby," she hissed back, "I'm not going to make him put it on mute! Just _ignore_ it!"

He tried to appeal to his other co-workers. "D?"

Dimitrius shook his head. "You're talking to a man who has two teenagers. This... is _silence_."

"Jack?"

"Sorry, Crash. Grew up in a house full of siblings. Same assessment." Jack was grinning into his coffee cup.

"_Sue?_" He caught himself just as she smiled tolerantly. "Never mind."

Sue laughed. "You've lived alone too long, that's all."

With a sigh, the Aussie returned to his paperwork, though he continued to shoot Sam an occasional annoyed glance.

Lucy had been planning to ask another question, but had entirely forgotten what it was at Bobby's interruption. She racked her brain for it, and felt rather close to snatching the thought back up when a soft, electronic beep startled her and caused her to drop it again.

"Oh, coffee break time." Tara muttered, pushing a button on her watch. "Okay, Sam. I've got fifteen minutes."

"Score!" Sam jumped up, and grabbed a box off Myles' desk, extending it in Tara's direction. Lucy stepped back to allow the shorter girl to pass her and accept the box. She sifted through the contents for a moment, before picking up a small cartridge.

"MarioKart64 okay?"

"Perfect!" Sam took it eagerly, and shoved it into the console on the floor, tossing the game that had been in before into the box. Tara dropped the box on Myles' desk and pulled a chair over.

Lucy shook her head as the music came back on, and the screen lit up once more. She watched quietly for a moment before pulling herself away to begin the day's tasks.

**-!-**

**-!-**

At 1 p.m., Myles walked into the Bullpen to find...pandemonium.

Bobby was standing at the open window, arm extended, holding something. Myles could just barely make out the shape of Sam's beloved Nintendo. Sam himself was practically at Bobby's feet, near tears and begging Bobby not to drop it. Everyone else was stifling laughter and deciding whether they really wanted to risk transferring the tall Aussie's anger.

"What the—?"

"Myles, I've had it with the 'pinball wizard' here! He's been in here all morning with this bloody machine, and I can't _take_ it anymore!"

Myles stood still for a moment, trying to decide whom he most wanted to help. Then another thought occurred to him, and his eyes lit with a bit of mischief. With a mental shrug, he made up his mind. "Sam, you _could_ always just buy another one."

Sam stopped pleading with Bobby, and his eyes lit up. A ripple of soft laughter started around the room, growing each second. Bobby shot Myles a confused look — a look that turned into a glare at Sam's next words.

"I could! Go ahead! Drop it! I wanna see what happens when it hits the sidewalk!"

By now, the rest of the team was laughing so hard that Jack was wiping tears off his face and D was wiping coffee off his desk. Bobby growled and tossed the video game back at Sam.

Myles calmly walked over and closed the window, then turned to his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder. He made sure Bobby could see his face as he whispered, "I thought I told you to make sure you kept it on mute."

Sam shrugged. "Dude, nobody else had a problem with it except "Waltzing Matilda" here."

Myles snorted in reply, and to Bobby's chagrin, a fresh gale of laughter assaulted the room.

"Well," Myles replied with a gleeful smile in the Aussie's direction, "you just have to humor him, sometimes. Why don't we see if you can set it up in one of the conference rooms, and then you won't have to put up with him."

Sam looked like a little kid on Christmas morning. "_Really_?"

Bobby drew himself up straight amidst the laughter. "Tell you what, mate," he said. "I'll go arrange it _personally_."

At Bobby's offer, Sam looked doubtful, and he slowly shook his head. "No, on second thought...it's okay. I'm not sure I wanna be in a room alone with you." Then he flashed a sudden smile. "It's not that you're not cute or anything; just mood swings and all that."

"It's all right," Myles said soothingly, leading his brother out of the Bullpen before Bobby decided that murder might be worth the jail time. "You shouldn't have to put up with him any more today."

Ten minutes later, as Sam was settling back in one of the leather chairs, his feet on the conference table, Myles paused in the doorway and said, "You know, that's the most rattled I've seen Bobby in a long time." He grinned. "You just made my whole week."

Sam looked up from his game. "No problem, bro. And while you're up, could you get me a soda, and something to eat?"

Myles studied Sam for a long moment, as his twin obliviously returned to his game. Again, the flash of sadness, then a sigh. "You've made my week; but not by _that _much."

**-!-**

**-!-**

When Myles returned to the Bullpen, he noticed that Bobby was now sitting at his desk with his hands clamped over his ears. "What's his problem now?"

"He says the song is stuck in his head now, and he can't get rid of it." Lucy handed him a file as he sat down. "Hey, just out of curiosity, when he's not annoying Bobby here in D.C., does Sam have _friends_ he hangs out with? A girlfriend, or something?"

Myles replied ruefully, "I stopped encouraging him to meet people after he told me he'd only marry someone who could beat him at MarioKart—"

There was a flash of motion in the corner of Myles' vision, and he looked up to see Sam skidding to a stop in front of the desk. His twin shot a cautious glance in Bobby's direction, then leaned forward and whispered to Myles, loud enough for Lucy to hear. "Dude. That Tara chick just _creamed_ me on MarioKart! Even Rainbow Road!"

Myles looked at Lucy with a bit of an alarmed expression just as Tara walked back into the room.

Sam was gone from his spot next to the desk before Myles could stop him, and he nearly collided with Tara, so great was the force of his hasty motion.

"Wannagooutfordinnerwithmetonight?" He asked in a rush. Tara blinked, and even Bobby actually bothered to look up.

"Excuse me?" Tara asked. "I didn't quite catch that."

Sam took a deep breath to calm himself, and repeated his question. "Do you want to go out for dinnerwithmetonight?"

Myles dropped his head onto one propped-up hand and Lucy stifled a laugh, as Tara shrugged and answered, "Sure. Why not?"

Suddenly, Myles remembered Elizabeth's suggestion from the night before. His head snapped back up. "Say, Sam, Tara...would you mind if Elizabeth and I tagged along? A double-date, maybe?"

Tara replied, "It's ok with me – I haven't seen my best friend in weeks. How about it, Sam?"

Sam gave his brother one of the broadest grins Myles had ever seen him display. He wagged a finger at his twin and admonished, "As long as you don't spoil our fun. Besides, I think I owe Liz a half a pack of gum. You didn't use all five minutes last night."

There was a pause, and then Dimitrius queried, "Half a pack of gum?"

Myles grinned. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."


	5. Double Date

**Chapter 5: Double Date**

The night was crisp and clear, the sky bright with stars, and the mood remarkably festive as they came out of the restaurant. Myles automatically took the lead and led them across Constitution Avenue, heading for a familiar park. There were benches there that he knew of, where they could sit and talk for a while. Part of him knew that with Sam there, it was wishful thinking, but he was going to try for it nonetheless.

"Oh," breathed Elizabeth as they neared a long, narrow pool. The Washington Monument was brightly reflected in the water.

She was about to comment further when Sam dashed forward, dragging Tara along behind him. Her friend was laughing as Sam shouted, "C'mon! Let's pitch pennies!"

"Sam!" Myles stopped as Elizabeth put a hand on his arm.

"Remember...sometimes it's okay to be seventeen again." She smiled mischievously. "Bet I can pitch one further up the reflection than you can."

She watched as he considered that; then she could almost see his mind shift into the past. His face softened; he raised an eyebrow at her, and retorted, "Want to bet? Hey, Sam! Can I have a penny?"

Sam stopped short, and patted his pockets; "Uh...do you have any? I wonder if that vendor has change for a twenty..."

It took two vendors and a nearby shop to come up with twenty dollars worth of pennies, but soon they were all armed. Myles had offered to carry Elizabeth's pennies for her, risking getting a "Hold these, too," request from Sam, but was surprised to find Sam awkwardly following his lead and offering to carry Tara's. For a few moments, he was silent as they walked, attempting to balance ten rolls of pennies in each hand. Then with a frustrated sigh, took off in the other direction.

The two ladies paused alongside Myles, watching Sam's hasty retreat. He disappeared around the bend; Myles and Elizabeth exchanged confused glances.

Tara kept her eyes on the corner a moment longer and then spoke with a forced lightness. "I'm not sure what I should be more upset about; the fact that I was just dumped without a word, or the fact that he still has my pennies."

They stood a moment longer, waiting for something to happen or someone to say something. Myles was ready to turn and go when Sam came tearing back around the corner, a paper bag clutched firmly in one hand. He swung it in the air to signal them needlessly, and the weighted bottom of the bag moved in a pendulum motion to knock him in the head. He looked shocked for a moment, lowered the bag to stare at it, blinked once or twice, and then continued towards them.

"We thought we'd lost you." Elizabeth informed him, with overdone graveness, as he rejoined the group.

"I would have found a map." Sam answered her easily, his calm and suddenly serious face making it very hard to tell whether or not he was joking.

"Next time, _say_ something before you run off." Myles chastened his erratic twin, nodding meaningfully in Tara's direction.

Sam followed Myles' motion, and his eyes widened. "Oh...sure. Sorry 'bout that." A smile suddenly blossomed on his face, and he bowed gallantly to Tara. "I just couldn't think of any other way to hold both the pennies _and_ the lovely 'Lady MarioKart's' hand."

Tara smiled back, and dropped into a curtsey. "_That_ is the nicest compliment I have ever been paid. You, kind sir, are forgiven."

Elizabeth laughed as Myles rolled his eyes. "You see," she said sweetly to Tara, "the Leland men are silver-tongued all around."

"_Some_ of them," Tara replied playfully, with a clipped look at Myles, "just haven't kept theirs as well-polished." As if to further prove her point, she extended a hand and Sam took it, leading her down the path towards the pond.

"_That_," Myles replied, a little less stiffly than he normally would, "Was unnecessary."

"Oh, come on, you," Elizabeth laughed, grabbing his hand. "We've got pennies to pitch."

**-!-**

**-!-**

It took a couple of hours to determine that about two-thirds of the way up the reflection of the Washington Monument was as far as a penny could be pitched, but they gave it their all. After the first hour, Tara and Elizabeth gave up and stood on the sidelines, keeping track of where each shot landed, and cheering on their respective dates like high school cheerleaders. It was a marvelously silly evening, and even Myles was fully into it.

They weren't ready to end the evening after that, so some discussion ensued, and it was decided (with much cheering from Sam) to rent a movie. The difficulty of movie choice itself, however, presented itself in full assault as they entered the rental store.

Myles, usually much more reserved and thoughtful, had been loosened up by the session with the pennies, and was ready to back Sam up on the choice of a cult-classic. Tara was not hard to sway in the least, and Elizabeth not far behind.

It took a good fifteen minutes to decide, even after the genre had been selected; in the end, they walked out with Sam proudly clutching a copy of _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_.

Tara was giggling. "Well, they won't need pennies for awhile."

Back at the house, a large quantity of microwave popcorn was prepared, and they settled in — Myles and Elizabeth, predictably, on the sofa, and Sam and Tara lying on the floor. The opening lines came from Myles' state-of-the-art speaker system — accompanied by Sam. Word for word, syllable for syllable.

"Sam! Shh!" Myles snatched a piece of popcorn, the nearest throwable object, and flung it at Sam's head. Sam threw the popcorn back, hitting Elizabeth squarely in the forehead.

"Excuse me," she said with a grin, picking up the popcorn and popping it in her mouth. "But thank you for returning it."

Sam shrugged, and turned back around to face the screen. He was mostly quiet for awhile, occasionally leaning over to Tara and whispering the dialogue to make her laugh. It wasn't until they had reached the famous Black Knight scene that Sam forgot himself, and began quoting out loud again. The deep and foreboding "None shall pass," mixed with Sam's higher warning of the same words, earned him another piece of popcorn in the back of the head.

"I said to be quiet!"

"None shall pass!"

"Sam..."

"None shall pass!"

"Oh, that's it." Myles growled, throwing a generous handful of popcorn at Sam.

Sam sat up, and scooped up popcorn to throw back at him, catching Elizabeth in the barrage.

"Hey!" She laughed, getting to her feet. Then she turned to Myles, her hands on her hips. "Isn't there something in the Knight's Code about defending his lady's honor?"

He grinned. "You're absolutely right. But I could use your help."

"Oh, you've got it." She grabbed a double handful of popcorn and flung it back at Sam.

Sam jumped back, yelping. "Tara, help!"

Tara stood up, shaking popcorn out of her curls. "Already there, Sir Sam."

Another flurry of white flew toward Myles, who jumped up on the sofa yelling, "It's just a flesh wound! I'm invincible!"

Sam looked at him for a moment, utterly shocked. Then a monstrous grin spread across his face, and he wielded an imaginary sword. "You're a loony. Come, Patsy." He and Tara proceeded to shower the other couple with popcorn, then ducked behind a nearby chair.

"Oh, oh, I see, running away then." Myles had a "sword" now as well. "Come back here...I'll bite your legs off!"

Elizabeth was on the floor, desperately trying to both catch her breath from laughing and defend their stronghold with repeated barrages.

The movie was forgotten amidst a blizzard of popcorn and laughter.

**-!-**

**-!-**

"You never do anything halfway, do you?" Elizabeth snuggled against Myles as they said goodnight in the entry. Sam had walked Tara out to her car, and they had a few minutes before the ladies would drive home, Tara dropping Elizabeth off.

He let his breath out in a laugh. "I suppose not. I haven't had an evening like this since college."

She looked up at him, eyes twinkling. "And you enjoyed every second of it."

Myles took her face in his hands and kissed her. "Every second. Thank you for suggesting it."

"You're quite welcome. Call me tomorrow?"

"I will. Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Myles." She stepped out the door, and Myles watched her bid Sam good night and get into the car.

His twin stood in the walkway for a minute, watching the car drive away; then he sauntered back into the house, grinning. "You get a kiss?" He smirked.

Myles gave it right back to him. "Yes. You?"

Sam shrugged. "First date – I got a hug. S'ok, though. She said she'd like to go out again sometime." He wandered over to the kitchen area and perched himself on a barstool, surveying his brother with a strange smile.

"What?" Myles asked.

Sam's face was thoughtful. "That was fun...tonight, I mean. I wish you were like that more often."

Myles sat down on the other barstool, and sighed. "It _was _fun. But I can't be like that all the time, Sam. I had to grow up, eventually."

The smile faded from his twin's face. "All children grow up, except one..." Sam muttered under his breath, and spun on the stool.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing..." Sam's voice fluctuated oddly as he continued to spin, but the words were clear. "I just...well, I wish you could be like that when we're together, at least. I don't like it when you're all stuffy and grown-up. You weren't always like that, you know. I remember when you were...nicer. Not as cold."

Myles had to double take at that, and was grateful that Sam was too busy twirling to see his shocked expression. Strange…as sure as he was that _cold_ was a word many people would use in reference to him, from Sam it hurt— a lot. Mentally recapping the past years as fast as he could, he tried to see where exactly his twin had started seeing the adult in Myles as cruel.

"Well..." Myles was grasping for excuses, and finding none. His frustration came out before he could stop it. "Maybe if you weren't so childish and annoying all the time..." Immediately after saying it, he felt like slapping himself. _Maybe he's right._

Sam's spinning stopped. "Me? Annoying?" The hurt look in his eyes was too much drama for Myles to take. A pent-up anger found its way loose.

"Surely you knew how utterly infuriating you became!"

"Became?" Sam stood, and his voice changed to a lower, angry pitch. "I haven't changed, Myles. _You_ changed. You left."

"Sam...we're not kids anymore, for crying out loud! We're _not_!" Myles spread his hands for emphasis.

His twin's voice rose in pitch. "You've been different ever since...ever since...you left. Over and over again, you keep leaving, and I end up getting stuck behind."

"I left?" Myles was on his feet now, too. "I didn't leave! What are you talking about? Hartford? D.C.? You knew I was leaving the Cape; you could have said something."

"It started way before that, Myles."

Head-to-head, the two brothers glared at each other, both thinking separate yet identical thoughts about how the evening had been ruined, and questioning what had gone wrong.

"What are you talking about?" Myles demanded, a bit incredulously.

"I think you know." Sam shot back.

Myles had a flash of understanding, and backed down, his eyes widening in something long past. "You don't mean..._then_, do you? Sam, I…"

Sam seemed to catch himself mid-fall, and his face softened, and cleared. A grin crept up on the corners of his mouth, and he laughed as if the idea was ridiculous. "Are you serious? No way, bro." He clapped Myles on the back, and whistled for Glorfindel. "I'm off to play some Nintendo. G'night."

He sauntered out of the kitchen, the called-for kitten scrambling after him and clinging to his pant-leg.

Myles blinked at the disappearing form of his brother, and shook his head to clear it. _So close. We were so close to finally…_

He sighed; he was tired, it was late, and he did have work tomorrow...he'd finish figuring out what was going on in Sam's head some other time. He put the walls back up around the past, and headed for bed.


	6. A New Case

**Chapter 6: A New Case**

The next morning, Tara found a bowl of popcorn on her desk, with a note in Myles' bold handwriting propped in the middle of it: _**I'll deny it to my last breath**._ She looked up to find him watching her, his expression serious but his eyes twinkling.

There was already a file on her desk, so it took a minute before she had a chance to respond. Once the project was in motion, she walked over to his desk and handed him a file, leaning over to whisper with a grin, "Nobody would believe me anyway." He laughed softly and nodded.

Just then Jack walked in with Bobby right on his heels. "All right, people, I hope you all enjoyed your evening off," he began, "Because now we have work to do."

The team gathered around, and Jack had Tara pull something up onto the board. The faces of three different men appeared on the plasma screen; two of them color photographs and the last a profile sketch.

Jack pointed to the screen, and walked towards it as he spoke, making sure Sue could still see his face. "There was an attempted kidnapping yesterday afternoon, at a private school here in D.C. These three are the main suspects; the first two are Tommy Barizino and Don Wekenski. The last guy, we don't have a name for yet..."

Bobby picked up the informative rail. "But Tara's running him against the mug shots in the database as we speak. While Tommy and Donny here tried to grab the kid, Number Three was waiting in the getaway vehicle. The boy they were after is the son of a famous violinist, Tomikata Sesnaiki. The motivation was most likely ransom; something we know Barizino isn't above doing. We've tried to nail him for something like this before, and this might be our chance."

Jack nodded, and flipped open a file, browsing in as he spoke aloud. "All we have at this point are eyewitnesses; but we're hoping to catch Number Three or Donny and crack them."

Sue waved to catch Jack's attention, and asked with a hint of confusion, "Why exactly did they not manage to kidnap the boy?"

"He was...uh, rescued by a teacher. A nun with a black-belt." Jack replied haltingly, continuing to skim the file.

"What's next? Monks with AK-47s saving dolphins?" Myles' baritone rang out, earning scattered laughter from around the room.

"Anyway..." Jack shot him a warning look, though it was easy to tell the shorter agent was fighting a smile. "Bobby, I want you out looking for anyone who might know Donny, his timetable, his habits, where he lives. I'm going to be whacking the weeds for Tommy's contacts—some people who might know where he's hiding out. Sue and D, I need you to go talk to the boy and his father; see if the kid remembers anything more about the driver."

"Am I manning the fort this time, then? No pun intended, Koala Boy." Myles leaned back in his chair with a grin as he asked the question.

"No," was the reply. "I want you to come with me. I have a feeling that Tommy's 'friends' aren't going to be easy to unearth." Jack smiled ruefully; the announcement of Myles' selected station caused the tall Aussie to sigh in relief.

There was a contemplative silence as the entire room paused to stare at the three faces on-screen, each in their own way trying to rationalize what would drive these three humans to try to kidnap a child.

Suddenly, the silence was violently interrupted by Sam striding into the room and announcing loudly, "I've got donuuuuuts! Donuts for sa-" The final sentence was cut short, and the box Sam had been holding fell to the floor with a squishy _thud_.

Myles turned, as did the others, to look at him. Annoyance was first and foremost while turning, but when he saw Sam's face, all traces of annoyance were replaced with instant concern. "Sam?"

His look-alike said nothing, eyes locked on the plasma screen. He stepped forward slowly, lifting his foot over the abandoned donut box without bothering to look at it.

"And no, it isn't a video game, so don't even ask if you can play it." Bobby growled, a hint of humor in his tone.

"That's him..." Sam whispered, coming to stop only inches beneath the screen, his eyes wide and frightened. "That's _him_, Myles..."

"You don't mean..." The concern dropped into his gut like a rock, and Myles held his breath.

"He's the guy who took me," Sam replied shakily, pointing at the sketch.

Myles took his brother gently by the arm and pulled him aside, ignoring the looks he was getting from his colleagues. "Sam," he began slowly, his voice quiet, "you were seven, it's been _twenty-six_ years, and that's a sketch." His skepticism wasn't so much true doubt as it was hope that Sam was horribly wrong.

"I spent _two years_ with him, Myles! What do you think? I remember what he looks like!" Sam's voice was rising in pitch, his fists clenched at his sides, and he took a deep breath. "I'd know those eyes anywhere...that's _him_, Myles."

The thick quiet in the room was suffocating, and Myles wished someone would say something so he wouldn't have to. But the silence continued.

"Sam? Why don't you sit down..."

Sam shook his head, took a deep breath, and his hands relaxed, fingers loosening their death-grip on his palms. "S'ok." He flashed a sudden grin at Myles. "I'm over it, no biggie. Don't even start to raise that eyebrow. I promise, I'm fine."

"Did I miss something?" Sue asked, earning a _not-right-now_ glare from Myles.

_I think we all did_. Lucy signed to her in reply.

"You still coming over for lunch, Tara?" Sam flew to her desk, bent over with his elbows propped up on the end near her pencil cup.

"Sure!" Tara's reply was enthusiastic, but her eyes were still full of confusion, not sure how to react after what had just happened.

"Great! See you then!" Sam grinned at her, and dashed out of the office with a farewell wave. Myles watched his twin leave, his expression a strange mixture of concern and shock, oblivious to the six sets of eyes staring at him.

Finally, Dimitrius stooped to pick up the box of donuts, and dropped it on the end of the coffee counter. "Something going on that we should know about, Myles?" He inquired softly as he turned back around.

The tall agent blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He looked around at them, then sat down heavily in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring at the floor. "It happened a long time ago, and it really didn't have any relevance in you all meeting him. Until now."

The team gathered around his desk as he quietly related a horror nearly thirty years old...


	7. Little Boys Lost

**Chapter 7: Little Boys Lost**

_June 1980_

_Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts_

"_Stay right here." _

_Myles Leland III looked up into his father's face from where he was perched on a bench. The small seven-year-old nodded solemnly, and Robert Leland smiled at his twin sons, both of them swinging their feet, which hung several inches above the pavement_

"_I'll be right back." Robert pushed his way back into the crowd in search of a water bottle. _

_Myles nudged his brother, and they turned around and knelt on the bench, surveying the crowded beach just a few feet below the boardwalk. The sun was glaring down on the sand, and the wind was stifled by the hundreds of people around the two little boys. _

"_I'm gonna go ask Dad to get me some sunglasses." Myles announced, sliding off the bench, slurping his ice cream. "I'll be right back, okay?" _

_Sam looked doubtful, and admonished, "But Myles, Dad said to stay here." _

"_I'll be right back, Sam. He won't mind. I'll be with him, anyway." _

_Sam shrugged, and twirled his own ice cream cone to catch the drips of melting chocolate. _

_Myles dashed off through the legs of far-taller adult people, looking for his Dad. He plowed through them determinedly, glancing up in search of a familiar face as he passed them. Suddenly, he felt a hand pull him out of the crowd and into the air. _

"_Myles!" Robert Leland's voice sounded surprised, and a bit angry. Myles swung around, and latched on to his father, not wanting to go back down into the hot sea of bodies. "What are you doing here, squirt? I thought I told you to stay at the bench. Where's Sam?" _

"_He's still back there. I wanted you to get me some sunglasses." _

"_Maybe in a bit, kiddo. Let's go get your brother." Robert Leland held onto his son tightly, and forced his way back to the bench._

_It was empty. A half-eaten ice cream cone was upturned on the pavement; but Sam Leland was nowhere in sight. _

"_Sam!" Robert yelled, spinning around, hoping that the little boy had merely gone hunting for his brother, and not— He couldn't even bear to think it. He set Myles down, and Myles squatted to study the cone. _

"_Chocolate is his favorite..." He mused thoughtfully. "I wonder if he dropped it."_

"_Maybe, Myles. I hope that's all that happened. Help me look for him..." _

_Myles was too busy poking the ice cream to hear the panic in his father's voice. He stood and looked around, searching for his brother's form. "Sa—" _

_He hadn't even finished shouting his twin's name when a sickening feeling settled over him. "Daddy," Blinking back tears, Myles grabbed for his father's arm, a touch of panic in his voice. "Daddy, something's wrong..."_

_Robert Leland bent over, and looked into Myles' eyes; the usually playful orbs were dark with fear. "Oh no..." He rose quickly, and scanned the crowd frantically, "Oh, God...please, no..." …_

**-!-**

**-!-**

Myles rubbed his hands over his face before sitting up to face the team. "I never should have left him," he said softly, his eyes still reflecting the memory. "When we got back to that spot, I _knew_...somehow, I knew he was terribly frightened, he was in danger..."

"Twins have a special bond," Bobby commented quietly. "That's been widely documented."

Something of the seven-year-old came through in Myles' next words. "Dad needed my help...and I couldn't put the words to what I was feeling." His voice was shaking nearly as much as his hands.

Sue leaned over and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "You can't blame yourself for it. You were _seven years old_, Myles."

Myles pulled his arm away from her, a frustrated expression crossing his face, the blue-grey eyes dark. "So was Sam."

She started to say something else when Dimitrius held up a hand to stop her. _Wrong time_, his glance said. He placed a hand on Myles' shoulder and asked simply, "What happened next?"

The tall agent sighed. "Unfortunately, nothing. That was the strangest part..."

**-!-**

**-!-**

_August 1981_

_Falmouth, Massachusetts_

_Myles sat on a rocky outcropping near the waves, watching them break onto the cobblestone-strewn beach. Even a full summer on Cape Cod had been unable to shake the despondency that plagued him_.

_Six months...a year...no word, no ransom request. His father had posted rewards, bullied every law enforcement agency that existed, done everything in his considerable power to find Sam, but to no avail. _

_Already a keen observer of people at age eight, Myles knew that, on some level, his parents believed that Sam was dead. Perhaps it was simply a way for them to be able to move on, put some degree of normality back into their lives. But he couldn't believe that— because he _knew

_He still couldn't explain it, but he knew Sam was alive; he kept getting flashes of his twin in his mind, vague images accompanied by powerful emotions he couldn't call his own. At first, the fear was overwhelming; then, after a few weeks, it settled into a profound sadness combined with a sense of...loss? Confusion? He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was a far cry from the never-say-die pride and ebullience that they once shared._

_Myles closed his eyes and "listened," reaching into a void in search of his twin. Once in awhile, if he stopped concentrating on the flashes and just let them wash over him, he could almost feel Sam beside him, could offer what little comfort was available. It was never enough to determine where his twin was; but often during these times, he would hear a soft voice in his head: "Just stay with me, bro – as long as you're here, I'm not afraid."_

"_Myles?" His father's voice broke into the void. He turned to look into the concerned eyes surveying him. "You okay?"_

_Myles nodded silently. He knew that it was too much, too hard, for his father to comprehend. What he was feeling and experiencing, as Sam's lifeline, just couldn't be described in words. _

"_Son..." Robert lowered himself to the rocks next to his little boy, and put an arm around the slim shoulders. "You know...your brother...he isn't coming back. It's been a year, and there's been nothing..." Robert felt the salty tears slide down his weather-beaten cheeks as he admitted his failure to find his other son. Myles sighed underneath his arm, and leaned against his father. _

"_Dad..." _

"_We're going to keep looking. But not as hard. It's not good for the rest of your brothers, or you." Robert looked down to see Myles' reaction, and as he expected, there was anger in the blue-grey eyes._

"_You _can't_ stop looking! He's not dead; he's _not_! He's still out there somewhere, waiting for us! I can _feel _it! We can't just give up!" Myles shrugged off his father's arm, and slid off the rock, breaking into a run down the beach. He heard his father calling after him, but he ignored the pleading yells. _

_He didn't stop until he had run off the beach, and into a stand of towering trees preserved along the coast. Angry and frustrated, overrun with emotions, he collapsed onto a log and sat there, bent over his knees and letting sobs rack his slender form. _

_Suddenly, Myles was hit with a gripping wave of fear— it didn't take long to realize it was coming from Sam. A scream caught in his throat, and then everything stopped._

_The only sound was that of the woods. There was nothing left inside; the connection he had first treasured, and then learned to survive with, was lost. He closed his eyes, and desperately reached out, groped in the void for a trace of his twin— and found nothing._

_Robert Leland sat at his kitchen table, feeling defeated and weary. His wife was sitting across from him, her head in her hands. Through the window, he saw a small streak of motion running up to the house at breakneck speed. The back door flung open, and Myles skidded inside, gasping for breath. _

_Myles threw himself into his father's arms, sobbing, finding himself only able to say one thing:_

"_He's gone, Daddy...he's gone..."_

**-!-**

**-!-**

"But he wasn't." Myles sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It was another year before we heard anything..." Collecting his thoughts and his control, he dove back into the story...

**-!-**

**-!-**

_June 1982_

_Boston, Massachusetts_

_Nine-year-old Myles looked up from his homework, startled, when the phone clattered to the floor. His mother was gripping the counter to keep from falling over, and her face was chalk white. It had been a long time since Myles had seen his mother so rattled, and he jumped to his feet, _

"_Mommy?"_

"_Anne? What's wrong?" Robert Leland moved into the room and grabbed the phone off the floor, putting it to his ear. "Hello?"_

"_They've found Sam..." Anne managed to choke out. _

_Myles sat back down in shock, and it barely registered that his older brothers were crowding into the kitchen, and his father was talking excitedly into the mouthpiece of the phone. His mother was laughing joyfully, and hugging him, then moving on to hug the others in the room. Myles couldn't bring himself to react to any of it. _How? How can he still be…but, I felt…?

_His brother Jamie dropped on one knee, to shake him and try to get him to respond, but when Myles said nothing, he was simply slung over his bigger brother's shoulder, and carried out to the car. _

_The miles flew by with the blurred trees, and Robert Leland cautioned everyone on getting their hopes up too high, though it was easy for even Myles to tell that Robert himself was excited. "Remember; they're pretty sure it's him, but they've only matched him to a picture and some older fingerprints." _

"_Didn't he tell them who he was?" Myles heard one of his brothers ask. _

_His father's tone dropped in pitch, and a bit of the excitement faded. "He's not talking. But," Robert tried to sound cheerful again. "It's probably just because he doesn't know anyone there. I'm sure he'll be fine once he sees us." _

_Myles wished he could tell his father to stop lying to protect them, but the words wouldn't come out. He leaned back against the seat, and watched the scenery out the window fly by. He knew that he should be ecstatic; his brother was alive! But there was a numbing sense of loss deep inside that came with the revelation that his brother wasn't dead. _

_Why hadn't he known? What had happened to the connection they had shared? Why had Sam shut him out? A year's worth of hurt filled his soul._

_Two and a half tense hours passed in the car, and then they were finally pulling into the parking lot of the Augusta Child Welfare Offices. Robert and Anne were the first ones at the door, and the boys followed, Jamie dragging Myles along. _

_Inside, they were led to a back room, and offered seats and water. A tall lady with lots of perfume and a nice smile kept telling Myles' parents to calm down, and relax. She talked to them for a few minutes, explaining some things; Myles didn't pay much attention to her. Excitement was starting to build now, and he wanted to see his brother. _

_The tall lady left the room, and returned several drawn-out moments later. She entered the room, ushering a little boy ahead of her. She gently pulled the door closed behind them, and everyone seemed to catch their breath. The head came up, and scared eyes peered around the room. Messily close-cropped hair was a statement to the condition they had originally found Sam in, but there were others signs; dark circles under his darkened blue eyes, and a too-thin frame were also screaming signals._

_Sam gave a little gasp, and jumped like a frightened rabbit, to run and hide behind the legs of the tall lady._

"_Sam?" Robert Leland's questioning voice was soft and encouraging, and he knelt down, beckoning to his long lost son. Sam didn't move; his silently shook his head in a refusal. _

_Myles tentatively stepped forward to face his brother. The tall lady moved aside, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder to keep him where he was. It seemed to take a second for Sam to register who was standing in front of him, but when a flicker of recognition lit in his eyes, so did something else._

_Accusation — it was brief, but it was there, and Myles took a step backwards at the cold look in his twin's eyes. But the icy stare quickly fled, and left behind terror. Myles could read the gut-wrenching fear all over Sam's face, but he couldn't understand it. He tried searching again, inside, and felt nothing but an ice-cold wall._

_Sam's panicked breathing grew louder and louder, and with a loud gasp as the fear overwhelmed him, he dropped to the floor. Rocking back and forth, hugging his knees to his chest, he desperately tried to ignore the voices and shapes of ghosts around him._

_Myles stumbled back as his twin brother crumpled to the ground, and he heard the tall lady explaining apologetically to his parents, "He's been like this since we found him. If there are too many people around, or someone tries to talk to him, he drops into a catatonic state. We've already treated him for some mild injuries at the hospital, but I strongly advise taking him back in and hiring a professional psychiatrist." _

"_Sam? Sam, baby...it's Mommy." Anne Leland moved quickly, to touch her son on the arm and try to get him to look at her. Her fingers brushed Sam's shoulder, and the little ragamuffin of a boy on the floor flinched. "It's Mommy, Sam. Look at me." _

_He didn't look at her, but his arms snaked around her kneeling form, and clutched her tightly, burying his face in her shirt, mumbling incoherently and crying. _

_Myles blinked at them, feeling as if he should be the one holding his twin. His father and the tall lady were talking again, and his older brothers were whispering to each other. Myles bit back tears, and stood stoically, watching his mother rock Sam back and forth. _

_Everything was wrong, again. Sam should have never been taken from him in the first place, and now the twin that he had been able to speak to without words was foreign to him; _his_ Sam was sobbing helplessly, and Myles didn't know what to do to make it better. ..._

**-!-**

**-!-**

Myles sighed and sat back, his eyes bleak. "I didn't know what to do. It took a couple of months before he would even speak to me. It was like...like he was a stranger. I tried…I _really_ tried…but there was nothing. The brother I had lost never came back."

"And they never caught the guy?" Jack asked quietly.

Myles shook his head. "Sam just showed up on the porch of a house in Kittery, Maine. And, because he wasn't talking, they had nothing to go on."

"Did your parents hire a psychiatrist?" Bobby edged in, leaning on the desk they were crowded around. "Did he ever talk to _anyone_ about what happened?"

Another negative shake of his head. "My parents started searching locally, and ended up scouring the East Coast for psychiatrists. Three years...no one could get him to tell them what had happened while he was missing; he wouldn't even talk to them period. My father had a friend in England, who was highly renowned, and he was going to take Sam there; my mother wouldn't hear of it. She said she wasn't going to have him that far away, not after what he'd already been through. She called an old uncle of hers and arranged for Sam to live with him. I guess she thought there'd be less pressure on him to talk about it. Then they sent _me _off to Lionmount Prep in New York for high school. I didn't want to go…not alone…but it was a family tradition, and it wasn't open for discussion. When I came back after my second semester, Sam was still with our great-uncle, and well...he was Sam. As I know him now. They just…kind of _left_ him. When my great-uncle died a few years back, Sam inherited everything, and he is as you see him; a thirty-something little kid. It's like he just stopped at the point where he was taken, and never came back."

"I wonder if Sam ever knew the guy's name," D mused.

"Myles..." Jack began slowly, not sure how the blond agent would react, "I know it's not the best time, but we _have_ to ask him if he remembers what the guy's name was."

Myles nodded wearily. "I don't know if he'll answer even that, Jack. But you're right— we have to try."

Suddenly, Tara's computer beeped. "Maybe not," she said as she dashed over to her desk. "Guys, check this out." A photograph came up on the plasma screen next to the sketch.

"Bingo!" Bobby exclaimed. "This guy have a name, Tara?"

"Lyle Matthews," Tara announced, reading off her screen. "Arrested and held for various counts of theft, fraud, minor stuff. This isn't the first time he's been a _suspect_ in a more serious case, but they've never had enough to even try him. He's never spent more than two years in jail."

Jack grabbed the printout she held, and started to make a beeline for the door. "Come on."

"Whoa, Jack." Dimitrius stopped him. "Do you really think, given what Myles has just told us, that Sam's going to tell you what he's told no one else in almost _twenty-five_ years, if you just go barging up to him?"

Jack glanced over at Myles. The taller agent thought for a moment, then shook his head.

Tara retrieved the photo. "I can ask him at lunch, Jack," she said. "It'll be a lot less pressure."

"Are you sure, Tara? I don't want him to start associating you with bad things..." Myles stood, and held his hand out for the photograph.

"Actually, Myles...she's your last option. You _can't_ ask him. And you know that." Jack stepped between the photo and Myles' outstretched hand. When the taller agent slowly nodded, Jack glanced over his shoulder with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Tara..."

"It's okay. I'll make sure he knows that a nod will do."


	8. Losing Sleep

**Chapter 8: Losing Sleep**

Sam heard the doorbell ring; he exchanged an apprehensive look with Glorfindel, who meowed at him piteously, and scampered off to hide behind the couch. Sam peered through the peephole, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he saw that it was only Tara. He opened the door with a flourish and a joyous, "Lady MarioKart! You've returned!"

She gave him a big hug. "Of course. Where else would I be, when there are race courses to leave you in the dust on?"

"I dunno..." Sam shook his head, as he beckoned her in and shut the door. "I've been practicing. Glorfindel's been helping."

He led her over to where a couple of sandwiches, a bag of chips and two sodas were spread out in front of the Nintendo. "Peanut butter and jelly...turkey and tomato...or ham and cheese..." Sam intoned, pointing to the sandwiches. "If you want something different, we can always raid the fridge."

She laughed, and sat down beside him. "Turkey and tomato sounds about right." Then she paused. "Uh, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

She pulled the photo out of her pocket. "Sam, I have to ask you this. It's important." She took a breath, then let it come out in a rush. "We were already running the sketch through the database when you came in, and this photo came up as a match, and now I have to ask you, and it's okay if you want to just nod or shake your head, okay?"

Sam looked at the photo, and swallowed hard. He slowly nodded, but his eyes had already given Tara her answer. There was an awkward pause as she returned the picture to her pocket, and Sam glared at the floor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating. After a few seconds, he reopened his eyes, and grinned at her. "Turkey and tomato, then? I call dibs on Yoshi."

She smiled back, then pulled her cell phone out and dialed. Softly, she said two words to Jack. "It's him."

An hour later, she walked back into the Bullpen. Myles was at her desk before she got her coat off.

"Was he okay?"

"He was fine. We had lunch, and played MarioKart. He seemed a bit uneasy right after I asked, but he bounced back. Just like earlier." Tara answered in a tone low enough for just him to hear.

Myles sighed. "I hope so. This is the first time in ages we've even come close to...well..."

"Reconnecting?" she asked.

He nodded. "And now I can't do anything about it _again_."

Tara smiled. "This time, you're not the only one working on it."

**-!-**

**-!-**

It was seven o'clock before Myles got a chance to go home. He walked in — to silence. The kitchen was neat, the stereo was off, and the mail was stacked tidily on the counter. Sam's car wasn't in the garage.

_He's gone again. Every time I think we're finally going to have this out, he takes off. How much longer can he run? _Myles sat down heavily in one of the armchairs. _For that matter, how much longer am I going to run from it? It hasn't been just Sam. I never really pressed the issue. What happened to make him hate me so? The look in his eyes when I first saw him, after…what happened?_

A soft form wound its way into his lap, and he looked down to see a small white kitten, a black spot just above its nose, staring up at him. "Mrowww?"

"Glorfindel? What are you doing here?" Suddenly, Myles looked around the room. The Nintendo was still hooked up, although it was neatly stored in the entertainment center.

His heart pounding, he swept up the kitten and deposited him on the kitchen counter, then grabbed the phone and dialed Sam's cell number. There was no answer. Quickly, he dialed a second number. "Tara!"

"Myles? What's up?"

"Have you seen Sam? Since lunch?"

She paused. "No. Why?"

"He's not here. At first, I thought he'd up and gone with the wind again, but Glorfindel and the Nintendo are still here. He wouldn't leave them behind, no matter what. I can't get him on his cell. Where is everybody?" His voice was shaking again.

Tara heard it, and knew he was headed for a panic attack. She kept her voice very calm, though her own heart was starting to pound. "They went to grab some dinner, I think. Let me call them. Where do you suggest we start looking?"

Myles' breath was coming in ever-deeper gasps, as a thirty-year-old terror repeated itself. He tried in vain to steady his voice. "That's just it, Tara. I haven't got a clue."

"All right. We'll come up with something. I'll call you back when I've talked to them."

"Call me on my cell. I'm going to go get Elizabeth and fill her in. Maybe she can think of someplace I'm not aware of right now."

"Myles?" Tara's voice stopped him from hanging up.

"Yeah?"

Her voice was steady, and it anchored him. "We'll find him. Don't worry."

**-!-**

**-!-**

Bobby adjusted his headset as he went through an intersection, going as slow as he dared in the late night D.C. traffic. His eyes scanned every inch of the windshield view as he listened intently to Tara's voice in his ear.

"Jack?" Tara was still in the Bullpen far past eleven, coordinating the radio conversation.

"I'm here, Tara. Nothing." Jack's voice came over the radio, a bit fuzzy with static. "Sue and I have been all around the Washington Convention Center, twice. He's not here. I'm going to head for Pennsylvania Avenue, and see if there's anything there."

Next to Bobby in the passenger seat, Lucy continued to scan her side of the street for any sign of the missing Leland twin.

Dimitrius' voice blended in. "Nothing on Virginia Avenue."

"L'Enfant Plaza, Smithsonian, and Federal Triangle Stations are all clear. We're heading towards Foggy Bottom." Bobby added to the chorus of voices, shaking his head at the depressing lack of correctly-colored Jeep Grand Cherokees in the scores of parked cars. He turned onto another street, and headed towards his announced destination.

"Myles, would he go over into Arlington, do you think?" Tara asked, her voice distorted as Bobby passed under a steel bridge beam that played blind spot.

"I seriously doubt it. But keep it in mind for later..." Myles replied after a moment's thought. "We've been around Independence to 14th and down to the river; covered both East and West Potomac Parks. Nothing." His voice sounded strained. "We'll swing around 23rd, then east on Constitution and down 17th."

"Alright, everyone, keep going where you're going. D, why don't you go ahead and check out Arlington, while you're going in that direction? Bobby, after you and Luce hit Foggy Bottom, no pun intended, just take K St. SW, and you'll run into the Farragut West, and McPherson Square stations. And Dimitrius; Rosslyn Station is north of Arlington on the west side of the Potomac..."

"I'll be sure to stop," D assured her over the line.

The light ahead flashed yellow, then turned red. Bobby gave a guttural growl as he pulled to a stop, and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, all the while looking around for Sam, or Sam's car.

"Remember, you're looking for a '01 Jeep Grand Cherokee, Metallic Blue exterior, Mass license plate DRMARIO3, a couple bumper stickers; one of which we're sure about the actual text of: 'Punk Elf.' Keep your eyes peeled." Bobby sensed a forced cheerfulness in Tara's tone, but couldn't blame her for at least _trying_ to sound like she had everything under control.

"You okay, Bobby?" Lucy asked, smiling, from the other side of the car.

Bobby stopped drumming his fingers, and revved the engine impatiently, waiting for the light to change. "I'm fine." He answered quietly, gripping the wheel to keep from beginning the tattoo again.

"What was that?" Myles' voice over the radio was surprising; he had been silent for several minutes now, and he sounded vaguely hopeful.

"Nothing. I was talking to Lucy. Tara, I'm turning my mouthpiece off. My earpiece will still be on." Bobby reached for the tiny slide-switch on his headset, and the car shot forward as soon as the light turned, his foot heavy on the gas.

"You're either in a hurry, or just have a lead foot." Lucy commented mildly, her eyes turned out towards the street, scanning the small spurts of crowd for Sam. She risked a second to eye Bobby again. "You seem awfully worried about the guy you wanted to murder earlier."

"Things have changed." Bobby snapped in reply. There was a tense pause, and then he sighed. "I'm sorry, Luce...I shouldn't have...it's just..."

"You're really concerned about Sam."

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk?" Lucy offered as she kept her eyes on the streets.

"He's annoying! More annoying than...well, anyone I've ever met before. But...no one deserves what he had to live through. _No one_. And here he is, facing it all over again...I'd feel bad if I wasn't worried..." Bobby admitted, trying to shuffle driving and searching without wrecking.

"Understandable." Then, suddenly, Lucy pointed out of the window. "There! Is that his car?"

Bobby slammed on the brakes, causing several cars behind him to screech their horns and brakes in protest. Bobby pulled in front of the Jeep, jerked open his door and tumbled out, automatically pulling at his headset and tossing it down. Lucy was already out of the passenger seat, and standing next to the car she had pointed out. The car was empty, but it looked like it was the right one.

"It's his, alright." Bobby agreed, studying the bumper stickers. "I'll go tell Tara." There was a faint crunch from the driver's side of his car as Bobby neared it, and he walked around the car to see something that made his stomach drop.

The headset had missed the seat and fallen to the pavement, and a passing car had crushed the device in its haste to get wherever it was going. Bobby patted his pockets for his cell, and found nothing.

"Aww. Bloody—" Bobby slammed his fist down on the top of the car.

"Bobby?"

"Luce, do you have your cell phone?"

"Yeah, hold on..." Lucy came back to the car, and retrieved her cell phone. After a moment, she sighed in frustration. "The battery is dead."

"Well, then," he said as he slid in behind the wheel. "We'll fight our way to the nearest phone."

**-!-**

**-!-**

He'd brought her up to speed as they drove, and Elizabeth had tried to calm him down as best she could. She now understood a great deal about why Myles came off so coldly at times, and the depth of feeling behind the walls he'd put up so long ago. Still, she couldn't help but wonder how things would have been different if the twins had been able to recapture what they'd lost.

It was now close to midnight. A soft spring rain was falling over the city, further warmed by the glow of the street lamps. They'd been in constant contact with the rest of the team, but so far there'd been no sign of Sam.

"I seriously doubt it. But keep it in mind for later..." Myles replied to something Tara asked him. "We've been around Independence to 14th and down to the river; covered both East and West Potomac Parks. Nothing." His voice sounded strained. "We'll swing around 23rd, then east on Constitution and down 17th." Elizabeth looked over at Myles, watching the tension around his eyes deepen; she could almost feel him reaching out, trying desperately to resurrect something long rusted and unused.

They were turning onto 23rd by the Lincoln Memorial when a thought occurred to her. "Myles, stop."

He braked the car and turned to face her. "What?"

"I just thought of something. From what you've told me, the last really pleasant thing that happened to Sam was the night we all went out. What if he's here at the park?"

"His car's not here. We've driven around it four times already." His voice was edging upward in pitch, and she could hear the wave of panic starting to crest again.

She placed a hand on his arm, and let him draw strength for a moment. Then she voiced her thought. "What if he parked it somewhere else and just started walking? He might very well have ended up here. We can split up and cover the whole park in a few minutes." She smiled gently. "I'm not above getting wet."

He sighed, something like hope appearing in his eyes. "Okay. It's worth a shot. Tara," he said into the radio, "We're going to go check out the park area near the Washington Monument, west side. Elizabeth thinks that maybe he might have gone back to the reflecting pool. We're going to split up, but Elizabeth has her cell."

"Okay, Myles."


	9. The Release

**Chapter 9: The Release**

She paused behind a tree, watching the still form at the pool where they'd pitched pennies. Sam was sitting at the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water up to his knees, sneakers and all. His hair was plastered to his head, and his shirt to his skin, from the rain. He looked utterly defeated, giving in to a secret he'd been running from for more than twenty years.

Elizabeth dialed her cell phone, and placed the receiver to her ear. "Myles?" she said softly. "I found him."

"You did? Where?"

"At the pool where we pitched pennies the other night."

She heard him sigh in relief. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know yet, Myles. Take your time getting over here, okay? Give me a few minutes with him."

"All right. I'll let the rest of the team know they can go home." There was a click in her ear.

She pocketed the cell phone and walked slowly down to the pool. She sat down next to him, and dunked her feet in the water as well.

"Run out of pennies?" she asked softly.

Sam didn't reply verbally, and his nod was so soft that Elizabeth almost missed it for the rain. He started moving his feet back and forth in the pool, watching his soggy laces swirl in the water.

She started to place a hand on his shoulder, then stopped, remembering what Myles had told her about his first reactions to his family. She leaned back on her hands and looked up into the rain. "You know, there's just something about a rainstorm. Makes everything seem new."

Sam nodded again, and tilted his face back to catch the full force of the falling water. His chest moved up and down in the motion of a sigh, yet he made no sound. Eyes closed, he spoke quietly to the sky. "I hate the rain."

"Why?"

"Ever since..." Sam stopped, and his mouth snapped shut. He kicked angrily at the water, but retained his self-imposed silence as he leaned back into the rain once more.

Elizabeth caught a motion in her peripheral vision, and moved only her eyes to see Myles standing about fifteen feet away. With a slight motion of her fingers, she asked him to wait. He nodded, and her eyes swept back to Sam. _Time to push a button_, she thought.

"There's a whole lot of people wondering where you are, Sam. Myles is worried sick."

"Myles doesn't care about me. He just says he does, like everyone else." Sam muttered in reply. He began brushing at the water with his fingertips.

Elizabeth stopped Myles from approaching again. Her voice softened. "Sam, listen to me. You weren't in the car with him tonight, searching all over this city. You have no idea how deeply he cares."

"He left me! I told him not to leave and he left anyway!" Sam growled, slamming a fist into the surface water of the pool, causing it to spray wildly, further distorting the already broken image of the Memorial. "If he cares so much, then why did he leave me alone?"

"You were both seven years old," Elizabeth admonished gently. "Are you going to tell me now that you truly expected perfect judgement from a seven-year-old? I'm not scolding - I'd really like to know."

"Well, no..." Sam admitted grudgingly. "But that wasn't the only time! He knew better later on! He had to!"

"He did, Sam - he knew something was wrong. He told me how hard he tried to explain it to your dad." Now she placed a hand tentatively on his shoulder, fully expecting him to pull away.

He tensed, but he didn't pull away completely, as she had thought he would. "But...I was...I was still alone. Without him, out there...and...I couldn't find him. He was just _gone_ one day...he used to..." Sam himself was struggling to put it into words, and the same time, trying to keep the tears from falling and mingling with the rain. He tapped his chest. "He used to be _here_, with me. And then he just _wasn't_."

Myles couldn't stand it anymore. He took a step forward, and when Elizabeth nodded, he knelt down behind Sam, his face wet as well, from the rain or his own tears she couldn't tell. "Whatever happened that day, Sam, whatever happened...was so bad that all I felt was a scream, and then _silence_. From you. I thought you were dead. I tried to find you again, but there was _nothing_."

Sam turned to face him, confusion and distrust mingled on his face. "But...I...didn't you hear me? I was begging you not to leave...I couldn't stand it, not by myself...and then you were just _gone_. I thought you left on purpose..."

Elizabeth spoke softly, to both of them. "Sometimes a trauma is so bad that you unconsciously push away, even as you're screaming to hold on. It's a reflex, Sam - you were protecting Myles from the pain, as much as you needed him there to share it." She turned his face to look at her. "What happened that day, Sam?"

He gave her a deer-caught-in-the-headlights stare, and swallowed hard. He tried to look away, to turn his face from her, but she wouldn't let him. Sighing heavily, he finally spoke. "Master Lyle...he..." Sam's voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. "He used me to get a girl into the motel room we had been living in." He paused, and then forced himself to go on. "Master Lyle made me pretend I was his son...and then said we had to stop to get something. I really didn't know, I didn't..." Sam choked up, and stopped short, biting his lower lip to combat the threatening onslaught of tears.

Myles started to reach out to his brother, but Elizabeth stopped him. She said, "Go on, Sam. It's all right. What happened next?"

"He locked the door after we went into the room...slid the chain lock into place. The girl asked him what he was doing, but he wouldn't answer. He threw me in the bathroom, and shoved a chair under the handle..." Sam closed his eyes against the memories, but plowed on through the story, his voice shaking. "I hid in the bathtub...I remember hearing the rain on the roof, but it wasn't loud enough…I could hear her screaming...just screaming...I couldn't stand it...I wanted Myles to be there, I couldn't take it alone...I panicked when he wasn't there. I started screaming, too. Master Lyle came in to see what I was doing, and got mad...he grabbed me by my shirt and slammed me against the wall, over and over again...I don't remember anything after that, not until I woke up in the back of his car..."

Elizabeth let go of his face, and Sam crumpled, sobbing into his hands. Myles was sitting behind him looking as though he'd just been shot.

"Sam," she said, her own voice a little unsteady, "I want you to listen to me for a minute, okay? This is important."

It took him a long minute to steady his shoulders, and nod into his hands, but he did so.

"What happened _was not your fault_. That's the first thing you need to know— and know for yourself." She drew his face upward again. "It _wasn't _your fault."

"But..." Sam protested, shaking his head, trying again to pull away; tears still running down his cheeks, mixing with the rain. "But I _helped_ get her into the room...I helped..."

"You were being used against your will, Sam," she replied gently. "You didn't know what was going on— it _was not your fault_."

Myles put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "She's right, Sam."

"Then how come it _feels_ like it's my fault?" Sam demanded brokenly, hands clenching into fists at his sides. He looked at Elizabeth, his eyes wide and pleading, begging for an answer.

She was silent for a minute, trying to formulate an answer. But it was Myles who responded.

He took Sam by the shoulders and locked eyes with his twin. Taking a deep breath, he dropped every mental and emotional wall he'd built up over the years. "Come on, bro," he whispered. "Let me in."

Sam's eyes widened further, if possible, and he gave a rapid shake of his head. "I'm scared, Myles...I don't think I can fight anymore...what if...what if..." Sam paused to catch his breath, and found himself unable to finish the thought aloud.

"What if _what_?" Myles put just enough force in his voice to prod Sam a little.

Sam didn't drop the penetrating gaze he and Myles were sharing, and he took a deep breath. "What if you don't understand? What if it happens again? I won't be able to take it a second time, Myles, I won't make it..."

Understanding dawned, and Myles tightened his grip on his brother's shoulders. "Sam," he said softly, "I'm right here. Right in front of you. You're not hundreds of miles away. You can _see_ me here. And I'm not seven anymore – I've seen…" His voice broke a little, and he shook his head slightly. "You don't need to protect me now. I can understand. What happened before - it's not going to happen again - I _promise_ you that. I'm not going to let it. Let me in, _please_."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight, and clenched his jaw — then let his walls drop. Years of frustration, anger, and agony surged through his system — things he hadn't even let himself acknowledge for a long time. Everything came back in a rush. _"Stupid kid!" - "Please, help, please..." - Why does he hate me? - Don't HIT me! - Mommy, Mommy, Mommy...it hurts, oh it hurts... - What did I do wrong? - "Shut up, you worthless little piece of..." - He's not right, he can't be right, he can't be he can't be, but he is...he is..._ Screams and cries echoing in his ears, Sam's' eyes flew back open.

Myles reeled back from the force of the emotions, but he didn't let go and he didn't break the gaze. "It's all right, Sam. I'm here. Lyle's _wrong_; you're not worthless, oh, you're _not.._."

The years faded away, and Myles was suddenly back at the office in Augusta, watching Sam rock on the floor. But this time, he knew what to do. The nine-year-old in his mind knelt and wrapped his arms around his twin, pouring all the strength he could muster against that cold wall, battering it down with every ounce of love in his heart. _You're not worthless. You're my brother, you're my Sam, and you are worth everything._ But the words seemed to bounce back at him, and he realized that Sam was caught in the nightmare again.

He came back to the present fast, searching his twin's eyes. Sam seemed lost in the memory, fighting to make it out and losing. He took a deep breath, fully prepared to dive back in as deeply as he needed to. A hand on his arm stopped him, and a gentle voice resounded in his ear. "Myles, don't— not this way. You'll only get lost, too, and I don't know what that would do to either of you. There's another way."

Myles nodded, his gaze still locked with Sam's. Elizabeth pulled her feet out of the water, came up on her knees and grabbed Sam's arm, shaking him slightly.

"Tell him, Sam!" she interjected firmly. "Tell Lyle he's wrong! You're not alone, you have help with you! He can't hurt you anymore - tell him!"

Sam found a bit of unexpected strength in the near-forgotten form of Myles' presence, and he drew on it. He closed his eyes, and dove back into the images of the past. _You're WRONG! - You CAN'T win! - I WON'T LET YOU!_ He sucked in a breath, and saw the smaller form of himself in what could have been, challenging a trembling Lyle Matthews, with fierce eyes and a strong voice. The memory faded as quickly as it had come, and he found himself looking at Myles, the rain still falling down around them. With a hiccough of a sob, he leaned his weary head against his brother's steady shoulder.

There was an awkward pause for just a moment. Then Myles drew his brother into a hug, and the twins clung to each other.

Elizabeth sat back and smiled. "Just goes to show, you don't mess with a Leland," she said softly.

The comment earned her two surprised looks: Sam not realizing he'd spoken the words aloud, and Myles having forgotten she was even really there.

Myles managed a grin and said, "That's right. Especially two of them."

Sam gave a half-laugh, the sound still wrought with the remnant of tears, and then exhaled slowly; the release of years of emotional burden being lifted was enough to lighten his spirit, even as dark as the situation still was.

"Tell you what," Elizabeth said, getting to her feet and holding out a hand to each of them. "Why don't we all go dry off, and then we can talk some more. What do you say, Sam? Ready to get it all out?"

There was a flicker of hesitancy, and then he agreed. "Yeah...I think I am." He took Elizabeth's hand, and pulled his waterlogged shoes out of the pool water, and planted them on the soggy grass.

Myles grabbed her other hand and got to his feet. He leaned across her to his brother and said in a loud whisper, "Y'know, maybe she's dating the wrong twin after all."

A grin slowly spread across Sam's face and his eyes lightened, if just a bit. "Too late. Go sell her to someone else. I like Tara."

Elizabeth laughed and put an arm around each of them. "Keep it up, and you'll _both_ be looking for new dates. Come on, before we all get pneumonia."

**-!-**

**-!-**

"Sam?" Elizabeth was curled up in one of the armchairs in the living room, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea.

"Yeah?" He was lying on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, a faint smile playing across his lips, as if in pride for having told off his personal demon. He glanced over at her and laughed softly. "You look like the time I tried to put a dog sweater on Glorfindel."

She glanced down at the sweats that were at least six inches too long for her, and the flannel shirt that was made for Myles' broad shoulders. "I really need to start packing a change of clothes in my car."

"Or leaving a change here," Myles quipped as he came out from the bedroom. He settled on the floor near the chair and accepted a cup of tea from her. Sam's cup sat untouched on the end table.

"How long have you two been dating?" Sam asked his brother, his gaze back on the ceiling.

"About five months. Why?"

"She doesn't know you well enough to start leaving clothes here. Trust me."

"Excuse me?" Myles raised an eyebrow.

Sam grinned. "Remember Aunt Christie's house when we were eleven?"

Myles thought for a moment, then burst out laughing. He turned to Elizabeth. "He's right. Better keep the clothes in your car for now."

The psychologist looked from one to the other. "I expect to hear this story from one of you on another occasion – preferably before another week is out."

"I'll tell you later," Myles promised.

Sam laughed again, then grew serious. "Sorry, Liz. You were about to ask me something?"

She nodded. "I need to ask it, Sam. As informal a 'session' as this is, I still need to ask. Okay?"

"Okay. Shoot."

"Did Lyle Matthews ever abuse you…?" She let it trail off for a moment, took a breath, but he answered before she could finish.

"Physically? Yes. Emotionally? Yes. Verbally? Constantly." He sighed. "But sexually? No."

In the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Myles close his eyes and whisper a silent prayer of thanks. She laid a hand on his shoulder, then sat up and leaned forward. "All right. Why don't you start at the beginning and just talk – everything. Let it all free, Sam. The situation with Matthews, your feelings, toward him, your family, Myles…just talk. It's okay now."

Sam cast a wary glance at Myles.

His twin nodded, encouraging. "It's all right. We've spent enough years mad at each other. I can handle anything you have to say. Besides," he said with a half-smile, tapping his chest, "I can feel it again now, anyway. So just talk."

Sam turned his gaze back to the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Well, about five minutes after Myles went to find Dad…"

**-!-**

**-!-**

The sun was coming up. They had talked for five hours, and Sam had drifted off into a deep sleep on the sofa, his expression peaceful. Glorfindel was curled up on his chest, purring.

Myles poured two cups of coffee and brought one over to Elizabeth, who was perched on a barstool. "You think he'll be okay?"

She accepted the cup gratefully. "Eventually. He went through a lot, Myles, and he's buried it for the better part of twenty-five years. There's still a lot of anger, a lot he needs to resolve, wth your folks as well. It's not going to be healed overnight, but he's on the right road." She looked up at him. "A lot will depend on you, I think. He's still afraid that special bond you share isn't going to last, and he's terrified of being alone again."

He sighed. "I know. I'm afraid, too. A lot of the walls I _have _to put up, because of work, may interfere with that bond. I need to figure out how to…do both, I guess."

Elizabeth nodded. "Part of that will be helping him understand that there are times when you will have to shut him out, for the same reason that happened years ago – you're protecting him, or you need to concentrate – but that you'll be back, or simply a phone call away. Don't be surprised, though, if you get a call almost immediately the first few times. You may have to employ Tara as a backup, if you're in an undercover situation."

"What do we do about Lyle Matthews? They're going to track him down shortly. Jack's going to want Sam to come ID him. There's no longer a statute of limitations on kidnapping. We could actually put him away for what he did to Sam."

Her dark hair swung as she shook her head. "I honestly don't know. It could make all the difference in the world, or it could send him backwards. I just don't know. I think you'll have to ask him."

Myles nodded, and came around the kitchen counter to draw her into his arms. "Thank you." He dropped a kiss into her hair. "Thank you so much, for bringing him back to me."

She smiled, but shook her head again. "_You _brought him back, Myles. Not me. And I'm going to warn you; there are no guarantees that he's going to be any different than he's been over the last twenty years. He's been making so much noise to drown out the memories; that's not something he's going to be able to just turn off."

Sam shifted on the couch, with a small sigh, and Glorfindel gave a sleepily frustrated meow before settling down again, this time tucking himself under Sam's chin.

Elizabeth looked over at him, a fond smile on her face. "He does grow on you after awhile, doesn't he?"

Myles chuckled under his breath. "Yeah."

Her smiled faded a little, and she turned back to Myles. "I almost forgot— he's probably going to suffer from pretty severe nightmares for awhile, too. It's a natural reaction when a long-hidden trauma is brought to the surface."

"What should I do? What _can_ I do?" Myles asked, a bit of alarm— partially edged on by exhaustion— creeping into his voice.

"Just be there for him. That's all." She drew back a little, and pushed him down onto a stool. "The other reason I need to mention it is for _you_. Tell me something — did the two of you ever share dreams when you were younger?"

Myles' brow furrowed in thought, as he tried hard to remember. "Yeah, actually...I can think of a few different times..."

Elizabeth sighed. "I had wondered. From what you told me, and from what happened at the park tonight, you and Sam are pretty high up on the 'bonding scale,' as twins go. Depending on the situation, you share much more deeply than average. That's why I mentioned the nightmares. As strong as the emotions around these dreams will be, you may find yourself experiencing them, too. He'll need you there, and you'll get drawn in."

"I see." Myles nodded slowly, and looked over at the sleeping form of his brother. "How soon do you think they'll start? Could it be now? This morning, even as wiped out as he is?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. It'll be less intense if you're awake, but you may still sense it. If he decides to confront Matthews today, then I suspect tonight will probably bring the first. It just depends on him." She stepped forward again and gave him a hug. "I know you can handle it, though. I just wanted to give you an idea of what to expect."

"Thanks," he replied, "I think. You want me to drive you home? Or you can just crash in the guest room, since Sam's on the sofa."

"I like that idea. Thank you." She stretched and walked down the hallway. A moment after she had stepped into the guest room, she poked her head back out the door. "Myles," she asked, a little puzzled, "did you know there's a big dent in your ceiling in here?"

He laughed. "Another story for later, love. Get some sleep."


	10. Facing the Past

**Chapter 10: Facing the Past**

Myles had been right. By ten a.m. Lyle Matthews was in custody. Now, the brothers stood just outside the interrogation room where Jack and D had the man.

Myles gave his twin a concerned glance. "Sam, are you sure you want to do this? I can't be in there with you - I'm not allowed to work directly on a case involving a family member. The closest I can be is on the other side of that window."

His brother nodded, albeit a bit hesitantly. "I need to, Myles. For myself...I need to..." Sam searched for words, and then started over, with a rigidly controlled calmness. "I need to do this for myself. So I know that he's not out there, anymore."

"For yourself, maybe. But not by yourself." The twins turned to find Bobby Manning walking up to them. "How about a backup?"

For a brief second, Sam looked terrified, and then it passed and was replaced by confusion. "I...well...uh..." He looked over to Myles for guidance, shooting Bobby an unsure glance.

Bobby grinned amiably. "I promise, mate, you won't have to worry about getting strangled from behind. Just don't ask me out again, okay? Darcy's starting to get a little jealous."

Sam looked at Myles again.

His twin was giving the other agent a thoughtful gaze. "Okay, I'll bite - what happened?"

Bobby shrugged. "Does a guy have to have a reason? I just thought maybe a little support would help, and I knew Myles couldn't go in with you..."

Sam nodded softly, and glanced at Myles before replying. When he saw that his twin was returning the glance, and leaving the decision up to him, he spoke. "Yeah...I'd...appreciate that. Thanks..." The final word was a mere whisper, and Sam's eyes were downcast.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Jack stepped out. "He's all yours. Just reign in that temper, ok? This guy's a real winner."

Bobby nodded, then turned to Sam. "Righto. You ready, Sam?"

Sam swallowed hard, and stepped forward, nodding.

Myles placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'll be in the next room. You can do this."

Jack opened the door to the viewing room, with the one-way glass, and stepped in behind Myles. On a sudden impulse, Sam walked in after them just enough to see through the window. There, he got his first look at Lyle Matthews in twenty-two years.

Sam stopped dead in the doorway, and stared at the captured form of his long-time phantom. He took a deep breath, clenced his fists, and stepped back.

Bobby looked at him for a minute. "You can ID him from in here, if you want. We just thought maybe seeing you after all these years, and knowing that we can put him away for snatching you, would prompt him to cooperate a little faster."

Sam shook his head in a little jerk-like motion, and exhaled slowly. "I need to face him." He said, quietly determined. He left no room for argument, as if he was afraid that he himself would try to argue.

Myles locked eyes with him for just a moment before he turned away, and silently tapped his chest. Sam nodded, drew himself a little straighter, and returned the gesture.

"Righto," Bobby said with a smile. "Let's do it." He opened the door and they walked in. Dimitrius was leaning against the far wall, his arms folded across his chest and an expression of contained anger and utter disgust on his face as he looked toward the table.

Lyle Matthews sat at the single table, his wrists chained with handcuffs. At the sight of Sam, he first looked puzzled. After a moment's careful study in silence, there was a storm of horror on his face, and then a cocky grin replaced it. "Well, if it isn't little No-Name, all grown up..."

Jack watched Myles' face reflected in the glass of the viewing room. The taller agent was outwardly calm, but Jack caught the slightest narrowing of the blue-grey eyes; Myles leaned forward, placing his hands on the sill.

"My name is _Sam_..." Sam growled, fighting a tremor in his tone.

"And behold!" Matthews mocked, "It finally tells me. And I could have been addressing you properly, instead of calling you No Name all that time. Pity." He clucked despairingly, and shook his head at Sam. "Too bad."

"I wasn't stupid." Sam retorted defensively.

"Just inept." Matthews chuckled, "I remember. And you could have done so well if you had just stayed with me. We had a real thing going on, you and I. Another few months and we could have found you a playmate. I was getting lonely, with just you around. You did come in handy, though, I'll admit. The ladies thought you were adorable. I never did get to thank you for that, did I?"

"Shut up." Sam ground out between tightly clenched teeth. "Just shut up." He closed his eyes briefly, and Matthews jumped on it.

"Aww...you didn't like me? And here I thought we were old pals."

"I hate you." The icy words came out in a barely audible breath of rage, and Sam's fists had clenched so tightly that his fingers were white. Bobby heard in his voice a touch of the small child, and knew Sam was starting to waver.

"Well, gee." Matthews was pretending to look injured. "And I loved you like a son..."

"That's _enough_." Bobby's voice sliced through the air with the potency of poison.

Dimitrius walked over and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. He felt the bone-deep trembling, and turned for a moment to where he knew Myles was standing not two inches from the glass. He gave another shake of his head. _He's losing it_.

Suddenly, Sam felt a soft voice in his head_. Don't let him do this to you, Sam. You're stronger than he is. You have power over him, because you're going to send him to jail. He's admitted to taking you. The power is yours now. Stay calm._

On the other side of the mirror, Jack watched as Myles tightened his grip on the sill and closed his eyes. The blond agent's lips moved in a silent whisper, but it was too slight of a motion for Jack to pick up any of it. He watched in surprise as Sam straightened slightly, then cocked his head to one side, as if listening to something.

Meanwhile, Matthews had stiffened at Bobby's outburst, then forced another jeering smile. "What, now you have a bodyguard? How quaint. Maybe next time, the big bad guys won't be able to get you. I bet you just can't stand the fact that your Daddy was only yards away when I took you..."

"I said that's enough!" Bobby's temper roared up, and he leaned into Matthew's face. "You are treading very close to the edge here, mate, and you're gonna get shoved off in a minute. If I were you, I'd shut my mouth before I dug myself any deeper. I can think of at least three people at this point who'd be just as happy to shoot you and get it over with. And you're the one backing the hammer."

A hand on his arm pulled the tall agent back, and a calm, adult voice spoke "Bobby? It's ok. It's him." Sam nodded firmly; although the words were needed only for official reports, they also helped him get his thoughts back together. "Lyle Matthews. Can I go now?"

"Yeah, you can go, mate." Bobby glared at Lyle Matthews, and strode across the room to open the door for Sam to leave. Sam walked slowly and stiffly towards the exit, but paused in the doorway, and turned to give Lyle Matthews a killing look.

"Just so you know, _Master _Lyle," Sam spat, putting a scornful emphasis on the despised title, "I've just found out that there's no time limit on prosecuting kidnapping anymore. So guess what? You lost. I'm back, and you can't do a thing about it. And I'm going to see to it that you never do to anyone again, what you did to me or those girls. Because I know, and I'm not afraid to tell. See you in court, _Master_." His last view of his personal demon was a look of shocked realization. He smiled as he stepped out.

Jack and Myles were waiting for him in the hallway, the door to the viewing room open. Jack gave him a clap on the shoulder and a nod, then went back in with Bobby.

"How did I do?" Sam asked as soon as he was alone with Myles. "I'm shaking all over...and thanks, for helping in there..."

"No trouble at all," his twin replied. "And you did great. He thought he was going to intimidate you, and he ended up incriminating himself. If you can stare him down in court the way you just did in there, he won't be bothering anyone for a very long time."

A ghost of Sam's old grin appeared, and he looked in at Matthews again through the viewing-room glass. "I think I could do that, if you're there with me."

"I'll be there." He opened the door. "Let's go find Tara, huh? She's been pretty worried."

"She has?" Sam sounded surprised, but the ghost of a grin remained. "I hope she isn't mad at me, because I really like her..."

As they stepped into the hallway, the other door opened, and Jack led Lyle Matthews out. The man looked at the twins in shock for a moment, then a nasty leer spread across his face.

"Aww, look. How cute. No-Name has a twin. Too bad he took off after your daddy – a matched set would have been even better. He as hopeless as you?"

Myles took a step forward, a low growl escaping his throat, but Sam put an arm up to stop him and calmly faced his nemesis.

"My _name_ is Samuel Nicholas Eric Leland. _Not_ No-Name. And if I were you, I'd think twice before trying to take us _both_ on."

**-!-**

**-!-**

Sam leaned forward in Tara's desk chair, and propped his elbows up on her desk, twirling one of her fuzzy pens between his fingers. Occasionally, a bit of feather would brush his nose and a bit of a grin would break the concentrated look on his face.

Lucy had run out on an errand, and Tara had stolen her desk, wordlessly granting Sam the safety of the small alcove her own desk sat in.

Myles and D had their heads bent together near the coffee station, and were talking in low, guarded tones; they took turns shooting concerned glances at Sam. Bobby was at his own desk, phone cradled against one ear, and Jack was in a position much the same.

So, Sam aside, only Sue didn't appear to be working on anything. She was quiet, watching Sam twirl the pen, distractedly scratching Levi on the head. The golden retriever looked up at her and she nodded quietly, and the dog trotted across the room to rest his head on Sam's knee. He looked at the warm bundle on his knee, startled, and then relaxed and petted Levi on the head absently, continuning to spin the pen with just one hand.

"No, but thanks, Rick." Jack set his phone down with a sigh, and looked around the room before announcing, "No one has anything. The only lead we might have is Matthews; and he's saying he won't give us information unless we agree to not prosecute for Sam."

"Then no." Myles snapped, looking up, barely taking enough time to fully process the statement. "Tell him it's not a deal."

Sam looked a bit thoughtful, but he kept his wide eyes locked on Myles to see what his twin was going to do next.

"Maybe I could talk to Matthews." Sue offered, "See if I could get anything out of him."

She didn't even finish the sentence before four male voices replied at once, in varying degrees of tone and intensity. "No!" Even Bobby had paused in his phone conversation to say it.

Sue blinked, and Jack jumped in. "It's not that we don't think you can do the job, Sue...it's just...this guy is hopeless. He's sick, he's twisted..." Suddenly, Jack remembered that Sam was in the room. He stopped abrubtly, and hoped Sue would understand. He was saved, however, by a quiet voice from the other side of the room, and Sue's attention followed Jack's eyes over to Sam.

"He wouldn't think twice about hurting you, you know." The pen spun faster. "They're right. You don't need to talk to him."

Bobby slammed his phone down on the desk, and sat up in his chair. "Well, mates, we might not have to make a deal with the devil after all. We've got a sighting on Barizino. Possibly an apartment. Let's go..."

"Ride 'em, cowboy." D muttered, grabbing his coat and following Bobby. The two agents were gone before anyone else could speak, and Myles and Jack exchanged glances before starting to follow.

Myles paused at Tara's desk, and leaned over to talk to Sam. "I have to help with this one. Are you going to be okay?" There was a hesitant nod. "Okay. Tara's here. Talk to her if you need to. Alright?" With that, Myles was out the door.

Sam continued to pet Levi on the head, scratching behind the dog's ears and watching the empty doorway for a few moments afterward. He felt his twin's mind shift, all business, and he panicked for a moment. Then he realized that Myles hadn't shut him out completely; his brother merely had to concentrate on bringing this Barizino in, so that Lyle Matthews wouldn't ever win at anything again. He tried to focus on the pen and the feel of Levi's fur, so as not to distract Myles.

Sue stood, and walked over to the desk, and rubbed Levi's coat. "Are you okay?" She began, looking at Sam to see his reaction and whatever he was going to say in reply, if anything.

"Yeah..." Sue saw his lips move, but couldn't hear how soft the answer was. Tara had looked up from her laptop, and was watching. By some sort of woman's intuation, Sue's eyes met Tara's, and Tara shrugged. _Try to take his mind off it..._

"You want to learn some sign language?" Sue signed as she spoke, hoping to catch his attention; Sam seemed to perk up, and at least act interested.

"Sure." The response held some enthusiasm, not a whole lot— but the word was enough to convince Sue.

"Here...this is "Hi"." Sue motioned, and Sam repeated after her.

"And this," Tara shut her laptop, and Sam looked over at her, as her fingers moved through the air. "Is 'None shall pass'."

Sue looked remarkably confused, but Sam's eyes lit up.

"Monty Python! Do it again...how did you sign 'pass'?" He concentrated hard on moving his fingers in the right directions, his eyes on Tara's hands, Sue's hands, and his own alternately.

An hour later, they were still at it, Lucy having joined in when she returned. Sam was learning a lot of sign language, and Sue was learning a great deal about the Black Knight - the Leland twin had insisted on learning the whole scene. Thus far, his favorite line was "Come along, Patsy," and he kept signing it randomly at the air between other sentences, and once or twice he signed it to Tara, who had to bite back laughter. Sue made a mental note to ask Tara if she knew what it meant later.

They were practicing "flesh wound" when Bobby and Myles walked back in. The two men were grinning from ear to ear.

"I like those expressions," Tara said. "We got Barizino, right?"

Bobby flashed his grin at her. "We did indeed. And, as a bonus...Donny Wekenski had showed up ten minutes before we got there. Both of 'em, gift-wrapped slick as you please, ready for delivery to Marion." He dropped into his chair and put his feet up on the desk, still grinning.

Myles' expression wasn't far behind. "D and Jack are currently informing Lyle Matthews that cutting a deal won't be necessary. I do wish I could be there to see the look on his face."

"I don't. They can deal with him all they want. I don't care if I never see him again, ever." Sam was staring at the twirling pencil again.

Myles' voice was soft as his smile faded. "You still have to face him in court, if you want to put him away. Remember?"

His twin's voice was firm. "I'll deal with that when I have to. I'm done with him for today."

Myles nodded. "You know what? You're right. I think, as soon as Jack and D get back, we should all go grab Elizabeth, Darcy and David if they're available, and D's clan, and go do something fun. Any ideas?"

Sam looked up, shot a glance at Sue, then grinned. "When do we have to have that movie back? On second thought, never mind the rental - I just added it to your collection."

Myles returned the grin. "Call up the pizza place and break out the popcorn. The Black Knight is back in action. None shall pass!"

**-!-**

**-!-**

Myles returned from taking Elizabeth home to find Sam and Tara cleaning up the last of the popcorn from the living room floor. He hung up his coat and wandered over. "Sorry to stick you with most of the cleanup. We got talking."

Sam smirked. "Talking. Right."

"It's okay," Tara replied. "We've been making plans for me to spend my next vacation time up at Sam's place on the Cape."

"You and Liz are welcome to come, too, bro."

Myles caught the _don't-you- dare _look from Tara and smiled. "Maybe another time. I think Tara Tech here wants you all to herself." He wasn't sure who blushed deeper, his co-worker or his twin. "I'll finish up in the kitchen. You two have done enough for tonight."

"Score!" Sam got Tara's coat for her and walked her out to the car. Myles cleared out the pizza boxes, rescuing a hidden and well-fed Glorfindel from the trashcan just in time, and was wiping down the counter as a final task when Sam came back in, a rather dazed smile on his face.

Now it was Myles' turn to smirk. "That expression tells me you got more than a hug this time. You can tell me all about it— tomorrow. I'm beat."

"Me, too," was the reply, as Sam looked back toward the front door, "But I think it's gonna take me awhile to fall asleep tonight, after that."

**-!-**

**-!-**

…_Silence. Absolute and total silence. Then, a child's voice shattered the still, and in the blackness was a light. Slowly, ever so slowly, he crept towards the light and the voice. _

"_You left me, you left me, you left me, you left me..." _

_The mantra went on, and he entered the pool of light to find a little boy, rocking back and forth, sheathed in shadow. _

"_Who left you?" He ventured cautiously, tilting his head and waiting for a response. The child's head snapped up, and piercing blue eyes knifed him in the heart. _

"_You did, of course." The small boy answered. "I was there with you, you know. It was me that he hit. It was me that you hid. And now I'm left, alone, alone, alone..." _

_The child moaned, and a single sob racked his shoulders as he buried his head in his arms. _

"_But...I'm here..." Sam lowered himself across from the child, and leaned forward quizzically. "What do you mean, you're alone?" _

"_You betrayed me." The child shot back, beginning to hum a haunting tune. "And left me here, alone." The head lifted once more, and Sam found himself staring into the sneering face of Lyle Matthews._

"_What are you doing here?" Sam demanded, sliding back on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees. He looked down at himself to find that he was in a child's body, small once again. _

_Lyle rose to his feet, towering above him. "I told you not to leave me, No-Name. I told you." _

_Lyle raised a hand, and brought it down, hard. _

_Crack. A scream. Slap. "Stupid..." Thud. "Please, Master Lyle, please..." Crack. Slap. Thud. Again. "Shut up!" More screams. Screams and red and angry, bitter words and more screams, more pain, never ending...another crack, another fall, another... another...another...then screams. …_

His head moved back and forth on the pillow, trying to dodge the blows. "Please...no..." escaped his lips.

… _There was blackness again, but still the mocking, scornful voice persisted in his ears. Echoing, hateful laughter and cruel words rang through the blackness; the dark only broken by the glaring eyes of Lyle Matthews that occasionally floated towards him in the midst of his torment. _

_There was no safety, no rock he could find. Sam groped in the void, searching desperately for something to cling to, barely aware of the fact that he was still screaming at Lyle's voice to go away. _

_Other nameless, faceless phantoms flew at him in the unsheltered area, grinning sardonically at him, and muttering vague words of despair. _

_Sam threw his hands over his ears, and tried to make it stop, but he could still hear them. Some distant part of him remembered, reached, called for... _

"_Myles! Myles, please...make them go away, I can't do it...Myles...come help me...please, Myles...I need you..." Sam batted at the ghosts in vain, but his hand cut empty air, and they continued to dance with Lyle Matthew's floating face. …_

Across the hall, a second sleeping form drew in a sharp breath as he was sucked fully into a dream he'd already been experiencing flashes of. …

_...Myles found himself standing in a blank void, surrounded by whispered voices and surreal phantoms. "Sam?" he called into the blackness._

"_Myles?" Sam thought he heard a faint voice call his name, and he ignored the phantoms for a moment, concentrating on finding his brother. "Myles, where are you?" Lyle Matthews suddenly appeared, walking towards him, and Sam froze. _

"_Myles..." _

"_I said shut up, already, you stupid little brat. It's just you and me." _

"_Myles! He's back! It didn't work, it didn't work..." _

"_Did you really think it would?"_

_Myles heard Sam whimper again, and his rage at Matthews was so great it blew away everything in its path, like a great wall of flame. When it cleared, he saw the kidnapper standing over the huddled form of his twin. _

"_Sam."_

"_Make him go away, make him go away...please...I can't do it...he won't listen to me..." _

_Lyle whirled at the strange wind Myles had created, and glared at the other Leland twin. "What are you doing here? You can't be here!" Suddenly, he snatched up the small boy and held him between himself and Myles. A gun appeared, pointed at Sam's head. _

"_Too late, twin," he sneered. "He's mine, you're too late, he'll always be mine." _

_Myles' heart faltered for a moment; then Sam looked up at him, tears streaming down his cheeks. The rage faded until there was nothing but love toward his brother, and Myles found he could face Lyle Matthews calmly. _

"_Only if he allows it," he said, more to Sam than to Matthews. "He has the power to escape you. But it has to be his decision to believe it."_

_Sam glanced up at his captor's face, and then kicked hard, and broke away. Without a second look back, he ran to hide behind Myles, his true-to-form brother much taller than his present state. "You can't have me..." Sam began, lower lip trembling, as he spoke to Lyle._

_Myles turned, and knelt in front of the seven-year-old image of his brother. "Sam," he said gently, "you can't hide anymore; not behind me, or the video games, or all the noise you've built up in your head. It will take some time, and some practice, but you can do this - you can make him go away once and for all. If you want to."_

"_I do." Sam nodded, and leaned over to shoot a fearful glance at Lyle Matthews. "I just...I don't think I can."_

"_Sam." Myles' voice was infinitely soft, but it echoed through his brother's dream. "You are no longer seven years old. You have the strength to do this. You're a Leland - and you're my brother. Face him as a man, and tell him to go away. You won't lose the child - but you'll master him."_

_Sam let the words seep into his mind, and he took in a deep breath. One blink, and suddenly he was no longer a little boy. His long legs ate up ground as he strode towards the shrinking form of Lyle Matthews. "I don't belong to you. I never have, and I never will." Sam growled at him. "You can't have me." With a terrified squeal, Lyle Matthews vanished from sight._

"_Nicely done, twin."_

_Sam turned to face him, a vague look of shock gracing his features. "He's gone...I can't believe it...he's gone...finally."_

_Myles stepped up to put an arm around his brother's shoulders. "He may still show up from time to time, but now you know how to fight him. And someday he'll be gone for good. Come on, let's get out of here, huh?"_

"_Let's." Sam grinned, and reached out to open a door that hadn't been there a minute ago. He stepped through it, and faded away, a whisper staying behind. "Thanks, bro." …_

...Myles opened his eyes to daybreak. He got up and opened the door, only to find Sam standing in the doorway of the guest room.

"Good morning." Sam mumbled, yawning sleepily. "Nice to see you again."

"You, too," Myles replied with a grin. "Guess we've got a story to tell Elizabeth, huh?"

"Yeah. I just hope this doesn't end up with us in some Twin Psych Ward..." Sam replied, a smile playing on his lips. "And does this mean I can't play MarioKart with Tara anymore?"

Myles laughed. "As long as you're not using it to hide, you can still play. And I think Tara would never forgive me otherwise. You want some coffee or something?"

"Coffee sounds good. Actually, it sounds _really_ good. What time is it? I don't have a clock in my room..."

"There's a reason for that," was the sardonic reply. "It got dented worse than the ceiling."

**-!-**

**-!-**


	11. Epilogue

**Chapter 11: Epilogue**

So, where's Sam?" Jack asked. "Seems only fair the guy who helped us nail the kidnappers ought to be here to join the festivities." He was perched on a barstool in the midst of an impromptu dinner celebrating a case wrapped up in so satisfying a manner.

"Actually," Myles replied, as he pulled a pan of garlic bread out of the oven, "I haven't seen him all day. I know he had a session with Elizabeth this morning, but that would have been over a couple hours ago. I haven't heard from either of them."

"While I've been sworn to refrain from revealing specific details pertaining to his location," a British-accented voice rang out from behind them, "I can assure you that he's quite well." Myles moved aside and let the well-dressed man set something on the stove.

Jack blinked. "Uh...not to be rude, or anything, but who are you?"

"Oh," Myles began, "Jack, this is—"

"I, sir" the man replied, giving a slight bow, "am Gregory Wilhelm Hobbes. Samuel is my employer. I am a 'Gentleman's Gentleman'."

"Otherwise referred to as 'MI-5'," Myles quipped with a grin. "Half the time he sounds like British Intelligence couldn't function without him."

Gregory inclined his head in solemn acceptance of the humor. "Incidentally, Dr. Dillingham is with Samuel, as is Miss Williams. So you needn't be concerned."

"I was wondering where Tara was," Sue commented as she tossed a salad at the counter. "She said she might be a little late, but she wouldn't say anything about why."

Just then, the front door opened and Elizabeth walked in with Tara. "Hey, Bobby," Tara said over the conversation, "Can you come move your car for just a second?"

"Sure, no worries." He followed her back out.

Myles looked at Elizabeth, puzzled. "What was that all about?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "What can I do to help?"

"You can help me get the table set," Lucy called from the dining room.

Dimitrius wandered over to the counter as Elizabeth went to help Lucy. "That spaghetti sauce smells fantastic. What's in it?"

Gregory smiled knowingly. "A secret recipe I picked up, quite by accident, while in Monte Carlo. It could have serious consequences if the ingredients were revealed, for then someone would know I had found them out."

"Right. Sorry I asked."

There was laughter at that, and in the midst of it Sam came bounding through the front door, with Tara at his side and Bobby right behind them. "Greetings, one and all!"

Myles raised an eyebrow at him, smiling. "You're late."

"Had things to do," was the mysterious reply. His eyes widened as Myles bored a glance through him. "Uh-uh-uh, twin," he said, wagging a finger in rebuke. "No fair peeking, not this time, I shall _not_ allow it."

"You were more fun when you were obnoxious," Myles sighed in a martyr's tone.

Sam's brilliant grin lit up his face. "And you're a lot more fun now. Even if you are still a stuffed shirt."

"Hey!"

The grin got broader, if possible. "Is dinner ready? I'm starved, and 'Fin and I need to get a move on if we're gonna get home before midnight."

Myles almost dropped a second pan of bread. Jack took one look at him and got everyone else involved in getting food on the table, leaving the twins standing in the kitchen.

"You're leaving…_tonight_? I thought—"

Sam's smile softened. "I need to, Myles. I need to go see Mom and Dad. It's been too long, and there's so much I need to say to them. All these years, I've been less than two hours away, and I've seen them less than I've seen you. It's time. Besides, Liz set me up with a shrink in Boston, I have an appointment in a couple days, and that's my homework."

"But—"

Sam put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "It won't be long, bro. I'll be back, I promise. Hey, we've still got Matthews to put away for good, and it's not like I'm gonna leave Tara at the mercy of the bachelors down here for long. And hey," he added, "the Leland duo is back in action. I still have some stuff to work on, like fully realizing that you shutting me out because of work stuff doesn't mean it's permanent. And I guess I need to learn to lean on something besides that bond— grow up, maybe. Just a little. But we're still invincible, you and me."

Myles nodded, unable to say what he felt. For a moment, Sam locked eyes with him, and it all flowed between them again. _Love you, too, bro_. It echoed through both souls, and completed the journey for them.

Myles clapped his brother on the shoulder. "You're right. We _are_ invincible. Come on. I suddenly find I'm hungry, too."

**-!-**

**-!-**

It was quite a sendoff after dinner. Glorfindel was passed around, until he decided that he liked Bobby's shoulder as a perch while Sam finished packing the Jeep. The white kitten kept pawing at the Aussie's hair and mewing loudly in his ear.

"Told ya," Sam said with a grin. "It's the hair. Gets 'em every time. Better keep an eye on him when you're taking down the bad guys."

There was laughter as Bobby plunked the kitten into his carrier with a sheepish grin, then turned to Sam. "You are, without a doubt, the most maddening bloke I have ever met." He held out a hand. "But it _is_ genetic, so I suppose I can overlook it. Good on ya, mate. Safe journey."

Sam returned the handshake. "Do me a favor— keep an eye on Myles, will you? There's only so much trouble he should be allowed to get into on his own."

"No worries."

There was a flurry of hugs and handshakes, and he swung Tara up and around to give her a quick kiss. "I will see _you_ later, Lady MarioKart." Only Elizabeth and Myles remained when he put her down.

"Liz, there are no words…except 'thank you.'"

She smiled and gave him a big hug. "Anytime. You just don't stay away too long, okay? Someone's got to clean out my gum supply occasionally."

Sam laughed. "You just let me know if he's not treating you good. Oh, I almost forgot…" He leaned down and whispered in her ear for a minute or two.

She burst out laughing. "Oh! Oh, no wonder you warned me!" She turned to Myles. "You'll be lucky if I _ever_ leave a change of clothes over here!"

Myles turned bright red as six sets of eyes nailed him all at once. "I was eleven years old. It's called temporary insanity, and I plead the Fifth. _And_," he said, advancing on his brother, "if I recall, _you_ were the one who came up with the idea in the first place."

Sam grinned again. "True. Aunt Christie never knew that, though."

"You…" Myles took another step, then simply grabbed Sam in a bear hug. "You take care of yourself, okay?"

"You got it, bro. Same goes for you." He stepped back and licked a finger, then held it up to the evening breeze. "I do believe the wind is changing. Time to move on, then. See you tomorrow, Gregory." He stepped into the Jeep, started the motor, and then rolled down the passenger window. "Hey, bro. Remind me again when your birthday is."

"A couple of weeks. Same as yours, obviously. Why?"

A small package came flying out through the window. "Because I might not quite make it back down here by then. So here. Happy birthday. Later, all!" The window went back up and the Jeep sped off.

Myles looked down at the package in his hands. Very slowly, he opened the wrapping. In the box was a garage door opener. "He wrapped up my garage door opener?" Then he looked closer; a small sticky note had been placed on the button. _Press here_.

He looked up at Elizabeth and Tara. "What's this all about?"

Two synchronized shrugs were the reply. Myles sighed and pressed the button. The garage door slid slowly open.

He stared.

Jack leaned over to Bobby and grinned. "Is he still breathing?"

"I doubt it," Dimitrius replied.

Sitting in the second area of the two-car garage was a brand-new, hunter green, Jaguar XJ-6. Several low whistles resounded as he walked over to it, not daring to believe it was solid.

"He really was going to import the Aston-Martin," Elizabeth said softly as she stepped up next to him. "Then Tara told us about a case you worked on a while back, and the Jag you got to drive for it."

Myles laid a hand on the roof of the car and closed his eyes. "He didn't have to do this."

"He wanted to," Tara said. "He just wanted to, and your birthday coming up made it easy. And before you ask how you can top this, you don't have to. He wants to go play paintball with you when he gets back down here; that's all he wants for his birthday. So, go on, try it out." She opened the driver's door and stepped back as he sat down in the leather seat. The keys dangled in the ignition.

A flash of white on the dashboard caught his eye, and he looked over to see a small card, like a placecard at a fancy dinner table, with his name on it. He reached over and picked it up, flipping it open as he did so.

_Here's to twins. Happy birthday, bro. I'll see you soon._

**-!-**

**-!-**

**FINIS**


End file.
